
Class JUL. 
Book I 4 k 




THE PILGKIM. 



a 



THE PILGRIM 



A DIALOGUE 



LIFE AND ACTIONS OE KING HENEY 
THE EIGHTH. 



BY 

WILLIAM THOMAS, 

CLERK OF THE COUNCIL TO EDWARD VI. 



EDITED, WITH NOTES EKOM THE ARCHIVES AT PARIS 
AND BRUSSELS, 



BY 



J. A. FROUDE, 



AUTHOR OF " THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND, FROM THE FALL OF WOLSEY 
TO THE DEATH OF ELIZABETH." 




LONDON: 

PARKER, SON, AND BOURN, WEST STRAND. 

1861. 



' G 



LONDON : 

SAV1IL AND EDWARDS, PRINTERS, CHANDOS STREET, 

COVEN T GARDEN. 



PREFACE. 



"TT7HEN I wrote tlie early volumes of my History 
I * of England this book was unknown to me. I 
was aware that a defence of Henry the Eighth had 
been written after his death by a clerk of the Privy 
Council ; but from the short mention of the thing hy 
Strype, I could learn little either of its character or 
value ; nor was I aware that a copy survived till I 
encountered one by accident among the Harleian 
MSS. in the British Museum. Subsequently, I met 
with a second copy among the Lansdowne MSS. ; 
and later still, I found that the book was printed 
in the last century among a collection of tracts by 
the same author. 

The printed edition, however, is so rare that for 
purposes of reference it is scarcely more accessible 
than the MSS. I do not doubt that to the large 
majority of English readers the book will be as new 
as it was to me, and I believe myself to be doing 
useful service in bringing it again before the world. 

The outward events of the reign of Henry the 
Eighth are patent and acknowledged. The ques- 
tion, so far as question exists, is of the causes in 
which those events originated. The Statute Book 

b 



VI PREFACE. 

gives one account of those causes ; popular tradition 
gives another. The opinion of a contemporary 
English gentleman, who had no object to gain by 
dishonest advocacy, cannot but contribute some- 
thing towards a just decision between the two 
authorities. 

To those who find an adequate explanation of the 
Acts of Parliament in the cowardice and servility 
of the Lords and Commons I put a question to which 
no answer has ever been given or attempted. What 
means had Henry the Eighth at his disposal to com- 
pel their compliance or punish their disobedience ? 
He had a mere handful of men, whose number he 
never attempted to increase. The Council, under 
Edward the Sixth, found it necessary to surround 
themselves with a ' Gendarmerie •' Queen Mary's in- 
cessant effort was to have a military force at her 
private disposal ; Henry the Eighth was contented 
with the yeomen of the guard, who might have 
been scattered by a rising of the apprentices. Ex- 
cept for the voluntary loyalty of his subjects, half- 
a-dozen noblemen might at any moment have 
overturned the throne. The House of Commons 
when called on to stamp themselves with ignominy 
by sanctioning Anne Boleyn's execution, need but 
have adjourned in a body from Westminster to 
Whitehall to have the King their prisoner. 

It has been said that to find a difficulty in the 
acquiescence of the Parliament is to betray an igno- 
rance of the histories of other reigns of terror. I 
reply that the annals of the world contain no record 
of a reign of terror conducted under such extra- 
ordinary conditions. The English were no mob of 



PREFACE. Vll 

helpless peasants ; they were a nation of soldiers, 
fierce, intractable, and turbnlent to a proverb. Lon- 
don alone contained a drilled, force of twenty thou- 
sand men at the disposal of the corporation ; and 
so far was the Kino* from showing a wish to disarm 
the people, that more than once at different periods 
of his reign, he forced the whole strength of Eng- 
land into the field, and himself with but a handful 
of servants rode up and down along the highways 
amidst thousands of armed men. If not contented 
with indulging in private his abominable passions, 
he had insulted Peers and Commons, Catholics and 
Protestants, with requiring them to disguise his 
crimes under a hypocritical aspect of justice, his 
long impunity is a phenomenon inconceivably mar- 
vellous. Our boasted parliamentary government 
and trial by jury are but poor securities for justice 
if they could be tortured into instruments of ty- 
ranny by means so feeble. 

I speak generally of the broad hypothesis of ser- 
vility which has been employed to cover the whole 
complications of this reign. They require far 
subtler and more delicate explanation. Cruel deeds 
were done ; but they were done by the alternating 
influences of the two great parties in the State, to 
whom nothing was wrong which furthered their 
separate objects. The King himself was rather the 
moderator than the instigator when either Protes- 
tants suffered as heretics, or Catholics as traitors; and 
deeds, which both sides alike must have known and 
acknowledged to be enormous crimes, I see no reason 
either to believe the King guilty of perpetrating, or 
the Parliament of permitting or sanctioning. 



Vlll - PREFACE. 

At all events, those who are capable of under- 
standing the difficulties of the popular view will 
welcome an opportunity of seeing the conduct of 
Henry the Eighth as it appeared to an Englishman 
of more than common ability, who himself witnessed 
the scenes which he describes. 

The history of the writer is soon told. He was 
by birth a Welshman, and was brought up at Oxford. 
Towards the end of Henry's reign he was obliged 
to leave England, perhaps for his religious opinions ; 
and repairing to Italy he composed among other 
things an Italian grammar. He returned home the 
year of Edward the Sixth's accession, when he was 
appointed clerk of the Council, and became a sort 
of political instructor of the young King. Without 
the knowledge of the Government, he seems to have 
secretly given Edward lessons on the principles of 
government, on the state of the currency and similar 
questions ; and his teaching, if not his hand, is per- 
ceptible in the King's journal. Wlien Edward died, 
he attached himself to the Protestant party. He 
took part in Wyatt's conspiracy, and died in May, 
1554, at Tyburn. 

It was while he was at Bologna, two months 
after Henry's death, that, (if the form of The Pilgrim 
is more than a fiction,) the conversation took place 
which gave rise to the composition of the book. 
The internal evidence shows at any rate that it was 
written while the author was still on the Continent. 
He did not publish it ; there was no occasion for a 
defence of Henry in England while the recollection 
of him was fresh and before the Italian views of his 
character had naturalized themselves : later in the 



PREFACE. IX 

century, in a changed era of men and tilings, Eliza- 
beth's position must have forbidden the appearance 
of a production which reflected so hardly on her 
mother. 

Such as the book is, it will speak for itself. It 
is not free from mistakes. The writer knew many 
things which we have no means of knowing. By 
the production of secret papers we, on our part, 
know some things which he could not know. 
His story has the accuracies and the inaccuracies 
which we might naturally look for in any account 
of a series of intricate events given by memory 
without the assistance of documents. It has the 
value which an account would have if given by any 
able middle-aged man now living, of the first war 
with China, for instance, of the war with Russia, 
the Irish famine, or the political struggles in Parlia- 
ment during the last fifteen years. The particulars 
of such an account would be often inexact, but the 
outline and effect would represent the impression 
generally current in the country ; and in that way, 
and to that degree, I believe the writer of The 
Pilgrim to represent to us the popular view of the 
conduct and character of Henry the Eighth, as 
received in England at the time of his death. 

So much for the book. I must add a few words 
about the notes. 

When for the story in the Statute Book is 
claimed the support of the recently examined State 
Papers, it is replied, that being the work of the 
same hands, there is no wonder if they tell the 
same story. 

The answer is not strictly to the point ; because, 



X PREFACE. 

under the term State .Papers, are comprised not 
merely official letters or statements, but miscella- 
neous reports of the most varied kind; depositions 
of witnesses on trials ; examinations of accused 
persons ; accounts of private conversations ; or of 
casual expressions dropped in church or on high- 
way, in private house or public hostelry. 

But it is true that all the State Eecords passed 
through the hands of the ministers of the day. If 
they did not forge what made in their favour, 
they had opportunities of destroying what made 
against them. The records of the trial of Cathe- 
rine Howard are perfect ; the records of the trial 
of Anne Boleyn survive only in a faint epitome ; 
and we know neither by whom nor why the evi- 
dence was made away with. The support of dis- 
interested testimony is therefore of more value to 
the reputation of the statesmen whose conduct is 
called in question, than any document which they 
left behind in their own portfolios ; and the testi- 
mony of enemies must be weighed beside the testi- 
mony of friends. 

From William Thomas we hear the best which 
could be said for Henry by an ordinary unofficial 
Englishman. I desired to hear the worst also — 
the worst, I mean, which could be said at the time 
by men who knew him, of actions passing under 
their eyes — and this object I have endeavoured to 
obtain from the despatches of the French and Impe- 
rial ambassadors resident at the English Court. 
French, Spaniards, and Flemings were alike Ca- 
tholics, and alike regarded the revolt from the See 
of Eome as an enormous crime. The Spaniards 



PREFACE. XI 

had received mortal affront in the divorce of Queen 
Catherine ; the French Court was the training- 
school, the French Sovereign the patron, of Anne 
Boleyn. Neither d'Inteville, Chastillon, nor Ma- 
rillac, neither Mendoza nor Eustace Chappuys were 
men to let their eyes be blinded in Henry's favour : 
and in their safe and cyphered correspondence with 
their own Governments, they would throw no plea- 
sant veil over a series of crimes and scandals. 

With a view, therefore, of seeing Henry in the 
least favourable aspect, I have spent some part of 
this past summer among the Archives of Paris and 
Brussels. The result will be found in the notes 
of this present volume. 

I have not found all that I desired. The cor- 
respondence of d'Inteville, the French minister, 
for instance, continues to within a month of Anne 
Boleyn's arrest ; it recommences a month after 
her execution ; and the letters in which the story of 
that tragedy was told were either destroyed, to 
stifle the recollection of it, or were set apart from 
their especial interest, and now are lost. 

On the other hand, I have found many things 
for which I did not look. The materials are abun- 
dant, and from the mass of letters I have been 
obliged to content myself with extracts. 

I believe, however, that I have omitted nothing 
of importance ; certainly, I have omitted nothing 
knowingly which tells in the King's disfavour. 

The letters at Paris are in French. The letters 
at Brussels in. French, Spanish, and Latin. After 
some hesitation what I ought to do, and being 
certain that do what I would I could not please 



Xll PREFACE. 

every one, I have studied the convenience of the 
majority of my readers, and have rendered them all 
into English. 

My original copies are at the service of any one 
who will give me good reason for wishing to see 
them. 



Castigans castigavit me Dominus, 
Et morti non tradidit me. — W. T. 

To Mr. Peter Aretine, the Right Natural Poet. 

T~ IKE as many times the wild woods and barren 
-*-* mountains yield more delight unto the seldom - 
travelled Citizen than do the pleasant orchards and 
gardens, whose beanty and fruit he daily enjoy eth, 
so hath it now pleased me rather to direct this my 
little book unto thee, whose virtue consisteth only 
in Nature without any art, than unto any other ; 
whom I know both natural, virtuous, and learned 
withal : specially because I understand that the 
King, in defence of whose honour I have made it, 
hath remembered thee with an honourable legacy* 
by his Testament ; the which his enemies pretend 
proceeded from the fear that he had lest thou 
shouldest, after his death, defame him with thy 
wonted ill speech. But to let them wit that no 
man with right can slander him, and to open also 
unto them part of his worthy and glorious doings, 
whereof, if thou wilt, thou mayst fully speak unto 
his great honour, I have in this little book briefly 
declared the most part of such successes as have 



* No legacy was left by Henry VIII. to Pietro Aretino. 
B 



Z THE PILGRIM. 

happened unto him in his lifetime, with the occa- 
sions that thereunto moved me, and have thought 
good to participate the same unto thee, to the 
intent that if any person should repugn against it, 
thou, with the mountain of thy natural reasons, 
shouldest have matter sufficient accordingly to de- 
fend it ; in which doing Thou shalt partly satisfy 
both unto the very truth, and also unto the good 
memory that so noble a King hath deserved of 
thee. 

Farewell. 

W. T. 



A Relation of a Conference had between 
William Thomas, Clerk of the Council 
to King Edward VI., and certain Ita- 
lian Gentlemen in his Travels, touching 
the Actions of King Henry VIII., en- 
titled Peregrine. Anno 1546. 

He that dieth with honour liveth for ever, 
And the defamed dead recovereth never. 

rjONSTEAINED by misfortune to abandon the 
^ place of my nativity, and to walk at the ran- 
dom of the wide world; in the month of February, 
and after the Church of England the year of our 
Lord God 1546, it happened me to arrive in the 
city of Bonony in the region of Italy; where, in 
company of certain gentlemen, known to be an 
Englishman, I was earnestly apposed of the nature, 
quality, and customs of my country, and especially 
of divers particular things touching the estate of 
our King's Majesty Henry the 8th, who then 
nearly was departed out of this present life. And 
albeit that my gross intelligence extended not to 
the sufficient satisfaction of those important ques- 
tions that were there demanded of me, yet, to avoid 
occasioning of discourtesy towards those courteous 
gentlemen who so courteously provoked me, and to 
learn of them some notable things worth the know- 
ledge (and being, as they were, men of singular 
reputation and judgment), I enterprised liberally to 

b 2 



4 THE PILGRIM. 

commune with them and to say mine opinion touch- 
ing the things in question. The discourse whereof 
I have thought good to put in writing, not only for 
the private defence of that noble Prince whose 
honour hath been wrongfully touched, but also for 
the general satisfaction of them whose ears may 
happen to be occupied with unjust and false ru- 
mours; beseeching thee, therefore, gentle reader, 
to accept the truth of mine intent without offence, 
in case thine appetite should move thee to niislike 
my report : for, surely, if thou set apart affection to 
govern thee with the discourse of reason, thou shalt 
also perceive that mine answer proceeds more of 
pure simplicity than of prepensed malice, in that 
part specially that excuseth the blamed doings of 
my foresaid King, who in his lifetime was much 
more able indeed to justify himself against all the 
world, than I now after his death am able to defend 
him with my pen. 

After supper on an evening, sitting by the fire in 
company of seven or eight gentlemen in a rich mer- 
chant's house in Bonony, among other things, 
when they had reasoned of many matters, their 
whole talk fell upon me, by occasion of the King 
who then was newly departed this world. And 
there was it first asked me of what circuit might the 
whole isle of England be ; whereunto I answered, 
that after the description of Cosmography it did ex- 
tend in compass upon the points to 2000 Italian 
miles; but in this, said I, you must understand 
Scotland to be comprehended. 

' And what may Scotland contain ?' said one of 
them. 



THE PILGRIM. 

' I think/ said I, ' that Scotland may be some- 
what better than as it were a fourth part of the 
island/ 

' And how is the country's fertility?' said he. 

I answered, ' that it was abundant of grain and 
cattle ; and to compare it unto Italy, I shall tell 
you what difference there is. Here, in Italy, 
groweth wine, oil, and divers sorts of fruits that 
grow not with us ; as melons, pippins, pomegranates, 
oranges, figs, raisins, and some other such ; because 
the cold air of our country cannot nourish them, 
being, as we are, six degrees further from the 
sun than you be. But instead of these your com- 
modities — first, for wine, we have great abundance 
of barley, whereof our ale and beer are made, which, 
for our common drink, agreeth better with our 
nature than the continual drinkings of wine should 
do. And then for oil, we have so much sweet 
butter, that though well we had abundance thereof 
as you have, yet, think I, there be few that would 
use it in their meats as you do ; since butter 
pleaseth our appetites much better than oil. And 
in that you exceed us in fruits, we exceed you both 
in the abundance, and also in the goodness, of 
flesh, fowl, and fish, whereof the common people 
there do no less feed than your common people here 
of herbs and fruits. And again, for wines, we 
have continually from France and Spain, as also out 
of Almaine and out of Candia, great quantity of the 
best that grow in those parts, and of oil and all 
those other fruits that are rehearsed, the melon only 
excepted. It is true that we pay dear for them, 
,and that we have not such plenty as you have : nor, 



6 THE PILGRIM. 

to say the truth, we need it not ; for like as the 
subtle air of Italy doth not allow you to feed 
grossly, so the gross air of England doth not allow 
us to feed subtilely. Here the temperate heat re- 
quire th food of light digestion, as fruits, herbs, 
little flesh and delicate diet ; and there the tempe- 
rate cold requireth food of more substance, as abun- 
dance of flesh and fish, which satisfy the appetite ; 
and thereof groweth the proverb — Give the En- 
glyshman beoffe and mustarde.' 

* Yea, but what meaneth it/ said they, ' that 
your nation supporteth no strangers, as by daily 
proof it is right well seen ? When an outlandish 
man passeth by, you call him whoreson knave, dog, 
and other like. This seemeth unto us a very bar- 
barous part.' 

1 1 shall tell you why/ said I. ' In times past, our 
nation hath practised as little abroad in strange 
countries as any nation of the world; and the 
commodities of our country are so great that the 
ignorant persons, seeing strangers resort unto them 
for traffic, and, as it is true, for gain, imagined they 
came not to buy their commodities, but to rob 
them, and that they who so used to traffic, for lack 
of living in their own countries, applied the mer- 
chandize of England as of necessity. But at this 
day it is all otherwise ; for like as your merchants 
do practise in England, so our merchants do now 
traffic abroad, and by travel have attained such 
knowledge of civility that I warrant you those 
strangers who now repair into England are as well 
received and seen, and as much made of as in any 
other kingdom of all Europe, especially in the 



THE PILGRIM. 7 

Prince's Court, and among the nobles, where surely 
hath evermore been seen all honour and courtesy. 3 

f We believe you/ said they ; ' but those commo- 
dities that you speak of, what be they ?' 

' Beside the abundant meat,' said I, ' there groweth 
in England great quantity of wool, the finest of all 
the world, whereof the kerseys and broad-cloths of 
London are made ; and all the fine cloths which are 
called panni dijjiandra are also English cloths wrong 
named by reason of the mart at Antwerp in Flanders, 
where these cloths are most commonly bought and 
sold. Then have we leather, whereof continually 
goeth out of the realm a marvellous quantity, a 
good witness of the great abundance of cattle that 
the country doth nourish. We have also mines of 
lead, tin, and, in some places, of silver ; but the silver 
veins do prove so slender that in manner it yieldeth 
not the miner's charge, so that it is left unsought 
for. But the lead and tin prove so abundant that 
there is continually bought and sold out of the 
realm great quantities thereof. Then have we mines 
of natural coal.' 

' What mean you by natural coal ?' said they. 

' Natural coal,' said I, ' is a certain black substance 
of the earth, congealed in veins, as other metals be, 
serving to none other purpose but to burn only, 
which in the burning yieldeth a much greater heat 
than doth the wood coal, and after that it is burned, 
consumeth not into ashes, but resteth hard as a 
stone. So that because it serveth much better for the 
smith's occupation than doth the other coal, there 
is yearly sold out of the realm a great quantity 
thereof unto Dutchland, Flanders, and France. And 



o THE PILGRIM. 

anotlier notable commodity we have ; whether the 
cause be in our industry or in the goodness of our 
waters, I cannot tell ; the Flemings do buy much of 
our beer, because it is better than theirs, and pay 
almost as much for it as we do to the Frenchmen 
for their wine. And, finally, divers other commo- 
dities there be of smaller moment, too long now to 
rehearse/ 

' Yea,' said one of them, f that drunken beer it is 
that fatteneth the Flemings like hogs. But surely 
these your commodities rehearsed are very notable, 
and I marvel not, though your Island be rich and 
wealthy (as it is reported), seeing that it hath so 
many means to draw money into it, when on the 
other side that money that cometh into your hands 
can never be had out again ; for your King hath 
kept the passage so straitly that no man could 
carry out of the realm in ready money above 10 
ducats ; so that it is no marvel, 5 said he, ' though he 
had mountains of gold, as they say he had/ 

' No/ said another of them, ' that law is finished. 
It is true that whilst the English money was better 
than other money, no man, as you say, could carry 
it away ; but now that the said King, for his own 
private gain, hath made it worse than any other 
money, each man may carry away so much as him 
liketh/ 

' Why/ said I, ' can ye blame him to take his 
advantage as all other Princes do ? See you not 
that all the gold and silver is abased in all the new 
money that is now made anywhere? I suppose 
he should have been reported a very simple man to 
have holden up his fine money for a bait when other 



THE PILGRIM. 9 

men's money decayed; and, as touching the Prince's 
gain (how well in common I cannot see where any 
man thereby snstaineth any loss), I think he did 
better to gain so upon his own money, than, as 
other Princes do, to borrow so of their private sub- 
jects and never pay.' 

' What !' said that other unto me, ' you are earnest 
in your King's favour ; but you consider not that 
Cicero his eloquence should not suffice to defend 
him of his tyranny, since he hath been known, and 
noted over all, to be the greatest tyrant that ever 
was in England.' 

* In this case,' said I, ' you charge my patience, 
and the answer of so outrageous a report requireth 
more force than reason or writing. But, because 
the place alloweth me not to speak, much less to 
fight, I therefore will forbear. But tell me, I pray 
you, have you ever been in England ?' 

' No,' said he, ' but in Picardy I have been, and 
also in Flanders, where by report I have known all 
the proceedings in England, and known them so 
well that in every point I should be well able to 
defend both with reason and force against you, not 
only that I have said, but much more, if need were. 
But because I am an Italian, and you a stranger, 
your brags shall have place for this time.' 

At the which words, somewhat troubled in my 
mind, I sought leave to depart ; but the other gentle- 
men present held me by force, and would in any 
wise hear that matter resolutely disputed ; insomuch 
that, having moved my Contrary to allege against 
the King's Majesty what he could say, they tempe- 
rately persuaded me to answer, to the intent it might 



10 THE PILGRIM. 

appear who had the wrong. And thus both parties 
quieted, after a little pause, seeming rather to have 
studied this matter than to have conceived it by 
hearing-say, this gentleman, my Contrary, thus be- 
gan his argument. 

' If you,' said he, ' will grant me that the prin- 
cipal token of a tyrant is the immoderate satisfaction 
of an unlawful appetite, when the person, whether 
by right or wrong, hath power to achieve his sensual 
will, and that the person, also, who by force draweth 
unto him that which of right is not his, in the un- 
lawful usurping committeth express tyranny ; then 
doubt I not right well to justify my report with 
advantage. 

c i. Your King his first wife, I pray you, being the 
Emperor's aunt, did he not cast her off after that he 
had lived in lawful matrimony with her 18 years? 

1 %. And to acccomplish his will in the new mar- 
riage of his second wife, because Pope Clement 
would not consent to him, did he not disannul the 
authority of the Holy Roman Church, which for 
long time hath been honoured and obeyed of all 
Christian Princes ? 

' 3. Thirdly — Because the Cardinal of Eochester, 
and Thomas More, High Chancellor of England, 
would not allow these his abominable errors, did he 
not cause them to be beheaded ? men whose famous 
doctrine hath merited eternal memory ; and when 
he had rid them out of the world, who only with 
learning and reason were able to resist his beastly 
appetite. 



THE PILGRIM. 11 

' 4. Did lie not presume to take on him the Papal 
title and authority ; disposing bishoprics and 
benefices of the Church as Christ's Yicar on earth ; 
like as it is manifest he did unto his dying day ? 

'5. The poor St. Thomas of Canterbury, alas ! it 
sufficed him not to spoil and devour the great 
riches of the shrine, whose treasure amounted to 
so many thousand crowns ; but, to be avenged on 
the dead corpse, did he not cause his bones openly 
to be burned ? 

' 6. And, consequently, all the places where God 
by his saints vouchsafed to show so many miracles, 
did he not cause them to be spoiled of their riches, 
jewels, and ornaments, and after clean destroyed, 
nor would not so much as suffer in those few 
churches that remained the light to burn before 
the images of God's most holy saints ? 

' 7. The monasteries wherein God was continually 
served, did he not overthrow them, and take all 
their riches and possessions unto his own use ; 
crucifying and tormenting the poor religious persons 
even unto the death, with whose goods he became 
more puissant in gold than any Christian Prince ? 

' 8. After the insurrection in the North, when he 
had pardoned the first rebellers against him, contrary 
unto his promise did he not cause a number of 
the most noble of them, by divers torments, to be 
put to death ? 

' 9. And not his first wife, but three or four more, 
did he not chop, change, and behead them, as his 
horse coveted new pasture, to satisfy the inordinate 
appetite of his lecherous will ? Two of his wives he 
hath caused suffer death, and two remain yet alive. 



12 THE PILGRIM. 

f 10. Did lie not persecute the Cardinal Pole, whose 
virtue and learning seemeth rare unto the world ? 
And hath he not wrongfully murdered the Car- 
dinal's mother, his brother, and so many other 
nobles that it should all be too long to rehearse ? 

' 1 1. He hath by force subdued the realm of Ireland, 
whereunto he hath neither right nor title ; and 
wasted, he hath, no small part of Scotland, with 
intent to subdue the whole without cause or reason. 

* 12. Against all conscience, he hath moved war 
unto France, and by force usurped the strong town 
of Bollogne, which he keepeth unto this hour. 

'13. His daughter, the Lady Mar} r , that he had by 
his first wife, being one of the fairest, the most vir- 
tuous, and one of the gentlest creatures in all the 
world, is now grown to the age of thirty-two or 
thirty-three years, and, through his devilish ob- 
stinacy, could never be married. 

'14. And, finally, to finish his cruel life with bloody 
rage, now, a little before his death, hath he not be- 
headed the old Duke of Norfolk with his son, for 
what cause no man can tell? So that I wot not 
what Nero, what Dionysius, or what Mahomet may 
be compared unto him, in whom, towards God, 
rested no reverence of religion, nor, towards man, 
no kind of compassion ; whose sword, inflamed by 
continual heat of innocent blood, and whose bottom- 
less belly could never be satisfied through the throat 
of extreme avarice and rapine ; whose inconstant 
mind, occupied with occasion of continual war, per- 
mitted not his quiet neighbours to live in peace ; 
and, in conclusion, whose unreasonable will had 
place alway and in all things, against all equity and 



THE PILGRIM. 13 

reason. All ! if I would go about to declare at 
length the particular enormities that I have heard 
reported against him, a part whereof I have briefly 
recited unto you, I should give occasion of trouble 
to a whole world ! But since this that I have said, 
is, I doubt not, sufficient to justify my purpose, I 
have thought it better with few words to let you 
know how manifest his tyranny was, than with long 
circumstance to occupy your quiet mind with the 
terror of so much cruelty as I could justly allege. 
Answer me now, who that will, for I am tired, not 
with talk, but with the remembrance of so many 
mischiefs as this reasoning representeth to my con- 
science : and yet one thing I have to say; your King, 
being environed with the ocean sea, thought it im- 
possible that the fame of his wicked life and doings 
should pass unto the firm land of other countries ; 
and therefore the more hardily did enterprise the 
fulfilling of his devilish desires. But in that behalf 
he was no less deceived than blinded in his own 
errors ; for not only his general proceedings, but 
also every particular and private part thereof was 
better known in Italy than in his own dominions, 
where, for fear, no man durst either speak or wink/ 
And thus having finished his heavy and fervent 
talk, he gave me place of speech. But I, who in 
this sudden case was not so promptly prepared with 
distinct answers to satisfy the company as he thus 
roundly had charged me, rested in manner amazed ; 
partly because meseemed the other gentlemen in- 
clined towards a certain credit of his report, and 
partly also for fear of the place wherein I found 
myself. For Bonony (though well with wrong) is of 



14 THE PILGRIM. 

the Pope's territory, and lie that speaketh there 
against the Pope incurreth no less danger than he 
that in England would offend the King's Majesty. 
Insomuch that one of them, perceiving me so op- 
pressed with an inward passion, very courteously 
encouraged me to defend the cause that I had taken 
in hand, without respect of fear. So that after I 
had told him that, without the Pope's offence, I 
could not make my reason good, which the pre- 
sence of the place prohibited me — assured of them 
all, in one voice, to speak at liberty what I would, 
without danger or displeasure, all joyfully imagin- 
ing the victory in hand, I thus began to say : — 

' Universally in all things do I find one singular 
and perfect rule, which is this, that the outward 
appearance is always preferred before the inward 
existence, and that most commonly do all things 
otherwise appear to be than as they are indeed. As 
for example, the fair woman (of him that by love 
seeketh to rejoice her) is rather regarded for her 
outward beauty than for her inward virtue ; and 
many times under the veil of a smiling face is 
covered the poison of a cankered heart. Yea, and 
when I had no other proof unto this my purpose, 
but that all living men are known to bear more 
earnest love unto the presence of these vain earthy 
riches, than to the hidden infinite virtue of the 
everlasting God the Creator, I think the same 
only should suffice to declare how ignorant that 
man's common judgment is, as long as it is occu- 
pied with the appearance of the thing, and pene- 
trateth not into the essential substance, as in 



THE PILGRIM. 15 

this our present matter you shall right well per- 
ceive it hath happened. For the person that will 
only regard the argument that the gentleman 
here hath, with the particular witness of those 
things that he hath rehearsed, which, in part, are 
surely true, and discern no further, he, I say, must 
rest undoubtedly persuaded that the deceased King 
was no less than a cruel tyrant, by reason that in 
all things it should seem he followed more his un- 
lawful appetite than any reasonable virtue. But, 
on the other side, he that will pass through the 
outward discourse and recur unto the inward occa- 
sion, how, why, and in what manner these things 
have succeeded, shall clearly find the effect to con- 
tain all another reason than it seemeth to do ; as 
mine answer to his oppositions by one and one, 
shall, I doubt not, prove sufficiently ; nothing mis- 
trusting at all, but that they who covet the light of 
the truth shall receive singular pleasure in hearing 
me. Wherefore, I shall heartily beseech you of 
quiet audience unto the full declaration of my pur- 
pose. And yet, or ever it shall become me to dis- 
pute in so weighty a cause, Eeason commendeth me 
to know both the nature and religion of the person 
whom it behoveth me to answer ; so that (said I 
unto my Contrary), I shall pray you not to disdain 
to tell me what is your profession and what your 
religion : as for your quality, I nothing doubt but 
that you are gentleman, for so doth your port 
and gesture sufficiently assure me.' 

' As for that,' said he, ' I will not make it strange. 
My profession is to serve the wars, though well I 
live upon my lands ; and my religion is to believe 



16 THE PILGRIM. 

in the Holy Mother Church, as my father and all 
mine ancestors have done/ 

' Very well/ said I ; ' in the whole is evermore 
comprehended the part, and therefore nnto the 
particular, which, as I can remember, dependeth 
thirteen or fourteen several points, I answer that 
first, as touching the divorce had between the King's 
Majesty to the Lady Katherine, his first wife, 
which was the Emperor's aunt, it is to be considered 
whether in that behalf his Highness's intent was to 
proceed lawfully or unlawfully, privily or openly ; 
for commonwealth or his own personal commodity; 
in the trial of which three distinctions the matter 
must appear. And thus standeth the case. 

c The King's Majesty deceased, in the time of his 
father Henry the 7th, had an elder brother named 
Arthur, heir apparent to the crown of England, 
unto whom this Lady Katherine was first married. 
Whether they coupled in natural knowledge or not 
God knoweth, for unto me it appertaineth not to 
judge, but they were of lawful age. Now, sir, this 
Prince Arthur died before the father, and during the 
father's life this lady remained a widow ; but incon- 
tinently as the father was dead and the King that 
now is departed came to the crown, his Majesty 
became enamoured in her, both because of her rare 
beauty and also for her singular virtues, which 
seemed then more to flourish in her than in any 
other living woman. But because the law of God 
in Christ permitteth not the brother to enjoy the 
brother's wife, as the especial proof of Herod, 
whom John Baptist therefore rebuked, doth well 
declare, his Highness, as for extreme remedy 



THE PILGRIM. 17 

unto his unlawful case, recurred unto the Pope's 
dispensation, believing at that time (as many yet 
do believe) the same to be of much more effect than 
(rod's commandments. And so having unto great 
suit and for extreme sums of money at length ob- 
tained superstitious licence, he attempted the act of 
matrimony, and quietly lived, as you have said, with 
the Lady Katherine eighteen years or thereabouts ; 
having issue by her that gentle Lady Mary, whose 
beauty and virtue you have most worthily com- 
mended. But when the time came that God opened 
his Majesty's eyes and spirit to consider this his 
unlawful act, not trusting yet altogether unto the 
divine inspiration of the spirit, how well divers of 
his prudent and learned counsellors had persuaded 
him plainly that the matter could not stand well, 
he nevertheless sent first unto Eome unto Clement 
the 7th for the resolution of his judgment in that 
behalf; prajdng him, if the matter appeared un- 
lawful before Grod, to grant him not only a divorce, 
but also a licence to marry again, for divers good 
and Christian respects. 

' But Clement, smiling in his heart at so meet an 
occasion, and thinking of this rich King to shear 
such another golden fleece as Jason conquered in 
Colchis, threw forth so weak a training -bait that the 
great fish swallowed his hook and broke his line. 
For straightway sent he the Cardinal Campeggio, 
legate a latere, into England to determine this 
matter ; who, sitting there in judgment, had such 
courage of presumption that he caused the King, as 
a private person, to appear before him, and the Lady 
Katherine both ; and there was this matter so long 



18 THE PILGRIM. 

disputed pro et contra, that finally, not only the civil 
and moral laws, but also by the Pope's self canon 
laws the commandment of Glod had place and the 
error of the Pope's dispensation was discovered ; so 
that, in conclusion, his Majesty was divorced from 
the said Lady Katherine, not unlawfully by extorted 
power, either of the King himself or of any of his 
subjects, but lawfully by the true examination of 
the verity before such a judge as coveted rather to 
rule the King than to obey him : and it cannot be 
said that he did it privily, for all the world was 
present to the matter in question more than twenty 
months or ever it took effect.* 

' And then as for his personal commodity, I think 
no man so ignorant but that he may consider how 
that he always might have had secretly at his plea- 
sure numbers of fair women — England being, as it 
were, replenished with the fairest creatures of the 
world. But he did it first with reverence to God, 
whose commandment each creature is bound to 
obey, and after the commonwealth of his realm, the 
inhabitants whereof are of all other most inclinable 
to sedition upon every least occasion; so that in 
time to come, whensoever any great man should 
have rebelled against the royal blood, alleging the 
King's children in their case not to be born in 
lawful matrimony, it should have been like enough 
to have moved mortal civil war, as small occasions 
in times past have yielded manifest proof; whereas 
now having had by the undoubted Queen Jane, his 
lawful wife, a most gracious son named Edward, 



* See Note A. p. 83. 



THE PILGRIM. 19 

who lawfully hath received the crown, the whole 
realm must needs persevere in happy peace and joy. 
And therefore methinketh him much to blame that 
for so reasonable a doing would defame so circum- 
spect a prince. 

' 2. Now unto that you say that because Pope Cle- 
ment would not dispense with this second matri- 
mony, his Majesty extirpted out of England the 
Papal authority, a thing of most ancient and godly 
reverence as you take it ; I answer, that after the 
King's Highness had so appeared in person before 
the Cardinal Campeggio, one of the princes of his 
realm, named the Duke of Suffolk, a great wise 
man, and of more familiarity with the King than ' 
any other person, asked his Majesty how this matter 
might come to pass that a Prince in his own realm 
should so humble himself before the feet of a vile, 
strange, vicious priest (for Campeggio there in Eng- 
land demeaned himself in very deed most carnally 
in hunting of whores, playing at dice and cards, 
and sundry such other cardinal exercises), whereto 
the King answered, he could not tell, but only that 
it seemed unto him that spiritual men ought to 
judge spiritual matters. ' And yet, as you say/ said 
the King, ' meseemeth there should be somewhat in 
it ; and I could right gladly understand why and 
how, were it not that I would be loth to appear 
more curious than other Princes.' ' Why, sir/ said 
the duke, ' your Majesty may cause the matter to 
be discussed secretly by your learned men, without 
any rumour at all/ 'Very well/ said the King, 
1 and so shall it be/ And thus inspired by Grod, he 

c2 



20 THE PILGRIM. 

called divers of his great and trusty doctors unto 
him, charging them distinctly to examine what law 
of God should direct so carnal a man as Campeggio, 
under the name of spiritual, to judge a king in his 
own realm ; according unto whose commandment 
these doctors resorting together into an appointed 
place disputed this matter large et stride, as the 
case required. And as the black hy the white is 
known ; so, by conference of the oppositions together, 
it appeared that the evangelical law varied much 
from the canon law in this point ; so that, in effect, 
because two contraries cannot stand in uno subjecto 
eodem casu et tempore, they were constrained to 
recur unto the King's Majesty's pleasure to know 
whether of these two laws should be preferred : 
who, smiling at the ignorance of so fond a question, 
answered, that the Gospel of Christ ought to be the 
absolute rule unto all others ; commanding them 
therefore to follow the same without regard either 
to the civil, canon, or whatsoever other law. 

' And here began the quick. For these doctors had 
no sooner taken the Gospel for their absolute rule 
but they found this Popish authority over the kings 
and princes of the earth to be usurped. For Jeter 
himself, whose successor the Pope presumeth to be, 
commandeth all Christians, whatsoever they be, to 
obey and honour kings and princes with fear and 
reverence ; because the kings of the earth are or- 
dained of God. And so saith Paul, so saith Solo- 
mon, and so Christ himself by example hath com- 
manded, when entering into Capernaum, he hum- 
bled himself unto the payment of the Prince's 
custom. And if Peter, Paul, Solomon, and Christ 



THE PILGRIM. 21 

himself, said they, have directed us to the obedience 
of kings in the time when there was no Christian 
king in the world, how much more now ought all 
Christians to obey their princes absolutely ; when 
they, the kings themselves, are not only members 
of the self-same body of Christ, but also members 
of the Christian justice ? And what greater dis- 
honour, said they, can a king receive than in his 
own realm to be made a subject, and to appear, not 
before another virtuous king or emperor, but before 
a vile, vicious beast grown out of the dunghill? 
And again, what more can be done unto a mur- 
derer or a thief than to bring him to answer in judg- 
ment? This, said they, proceedeth not of the 
divine law, but rather contrary, forasmuch as the 
spiritual office of the Christian religion proceedeth 
altogether by charitable counsel. 

' Of their just and evangelical conclusion his High- 
ness resolved of that he had to do ; and with patience 
of his past error, licensed the said Cardinal Campeggio 
to return unto Eome, not so highly rewarded as the 
said cardinal looked for, nor yet with such commission 
as Pope Clement thought should have mended his 
hungry purse for the new licence that he had pre- 
pared unto the King's second marriage. For im- 
mediately after Campeggio his departure, the King, 
assoiled in cob science of his first divorced matri- 
mony, both by the law of God and also by the 
public consent of the whole Church of England and 
his Barony and his Commons, proceeded unto his 
second marriage without further bribe or suit unto 
the Pope. So that Clement, seeing his line broken, 
and the fish escaped with the hook and bait, like a 



22 THE PILGRIM. 

mad raging dog vomited his fulminations, and by 
consistorial censures excommunicated both King 
and country, affirming that the King began to rebel 
against the Eoman See for none other but because 
his holy Fatherhood would not grant him the 
licence of this new marriage; and with this new 
leasing brought the King in slander of the ignorant 
and superstitious world. And here may you see 
how the multitude is blinded.* 

' But to let you know with how much reason he 
hath disannulled the Papal authority, I doubt not 
but that every humble heart doth know, that one 
infinite God is He who governeth all, both heaven 
and earth, and that utterly. Neither the name nor 
the glory of God can be attributed to any creature ; 
so that by consequence the Pope is no earthly god, 
as the canon laws witness him to be ; and then how 
foolish a thing it is to believe that he hath God's 
power by Christ, I shall report me unto you when 
I have said my reason. The Pope allegeth him- 
self Christ's Yicar, Peter's successor, and by Peter's 
keys to have power to loose and bind in heaven, 
earth, and hell. First, for Christ's Yicar, it is 
manifest, it is certain that in the whole Scripture 
there is not one word mentioned how Christ ordained 
any vicar or subject here in earth to be his broker 
or factor in matters of salvation or damnation : but 
the express contrary is found that Christ himself is 
only the Way, the Verity, and the Life, without 
whom none can have access unto the Father ; and 
again, none knoweth the Father but the Son, and 



* See Note B. page 85. 



THE PILGRIM. 23 

to whom the Son vouchsafeth to reveal Him ; no 
man cometh unto the Son, but whom the Father 
draweth. Moreover, Christ saith that He is the 
gate by which all they that be saved must enter ; 
and besides Him, there is none other foundation, 
nor in none other name health, saith Peter. Paul 
crieth out that Christ only is justification and only 
Mediator between God and man, and saith not be- 
tween God and the Pope. So that it is impossible 
to prove by the Holy Scriptures the Pope to be 
another mediator to distribute the merits that 
Christ saith He will distribute Himself. For if 
Christ be perfect Grod, and God everywhere, then 
God in Christ doth continually work His perfection — 
that is to say, salvation in the faithful, and judgment 
on the infidels, as the Holy Scriptures undoubtedly 
do affirm, without any need of the Pope's help in 
that behalf. And if Christ were but man only, and 
imperfect as the Pope would make Him to be in 
this case where he pretendeth to be His vicar or 
attorney, then our faith being vain in Christ, a 
fortiori must be more than vain in the Pope. For 
the Pope dispenseth not earthly things, neither 
treasure nor health of body, as his covetous gather- 
ing of gold and self-infirmity of reason proveth; 
and as for celestial things, I speak of the soul, 
being a carnal man, though well he had the spirit 
of prophecy, yet could he nought judge thereof. 

' Now unto that he presumeth of Peter's succes- 
sion, it cannot be found in the Holy Scriptures that 
ever Peter came to Rome, but dwelled in Antioch, 
preaching there the word of God all the days of his 
life. So the Bishop of Antioch should of reason be 



24 THE PILGRIM. 

rather Peter's successor than the Bishop of Eome ; 
and the keys that were given to Peter appear not 
"by the Gospel to be given to any successor, but to 
Peter only, who had no less of the Holy Ghost than 
the Pope hath of the devil. And what effect those 
keys have, it may well be seen, when we consider 
our own miserable sins which ye believe lieth in 
him to bind or to loose. If I never sin, how can 
he bind me ? and if I sin, I bind myself. If it 
please God in Christ to pardon me my sins, what 
devil can annoy me ? And if God will not forgive 
me, what creature can bring me unto heaven ? So 
that, unless you will say that the Pope is greater 
than God, and can enforce God and Christ to 
make and mar as He will, you must needs confess 
the Pope's authority to be utterly vain and super- 
stitious. My duty of reverence reserved towards 
religion, speaking by protestation, I shall tell you 
merely bow these keys came to Peter. 

1 Christ having bolted the gates of heaven and 
barred the door on the inward side, bade Peter 
keep those keys safe until the day of judgment. 
Before that time, He would that none should cor- 
porally enter in there by the gate, but fly in spirit 
over the wall. So that Peter all the days of his life 
sought to lead all true Christians thither by lively 
faith, as his Master taught him, and not by opening 
the gates ; and therefore hid the keys in his habita- 
tion at Antioch, where they lay many years, un- 
known. At length, in the time of Phocas, the 
Emperor of Constantinople, a simple priest found 
them, and marvelling at the curious workmanship 
(being, as they were, of divine operation), to gratify 



THE PILGRIM. 25 

his Lord the Emperor with so rare a thing, went 
and presented them to his Majesty, who, not know- 
ing how to use them, gave them after unto Pocky- 
face (I would say Boniface the Third), by whom 
they were first brought into the Eoman Church. 
But in effect this Boniface, seeking the gates of 
heaven, failed of his way, and, by misfortune, hap- 
pened on the gates of hell, where, unwittingly, he 
put those keys in use, and in very deed, at once 
opened them ; quia porta inferni non prevalebunt 
adversus eum ; in such wise that the devils got out 
and, by plain force, after they had drawn Boniface in, 
kept the gates so wide open, that all they who have 
followed Boniface in the Papistical belief, thinking 
to climb to heaven, are fallen there by the way. 

' Finally, to conclude of this Popish authority. 
It was not only found that the Pope was a false 
prophet, a deceiver and beguiler of human souls, but 
also the same Antichrist whom John accuseth in so 
many figures of his Apocalypse, forasmuch as Anti- 
christ can be no otherwise expounded but Christ's 
contrary. And the Pope is so contrary unto Christ 
by Daniel, that the matter was toto evident ; for 
whereas Christ was humble, patient, chaste, poor, 
constant, and obedient, seeking always the fulfilling 
of His Father's will and not His own, the Pope, 
clean contrary, was proud, impatient, lecherous, 
rich, inconstant, and disobedient, not seeking the 
fulfilling of any part of Grod's will, but his own will 
only, in despite of all the world. As for proof, 
Christ humbled Himself to the washing of His 
apostles' feet; patiently suffered the Scribes and 
Pharisees to contend with Him; chastely resisted 



26 THE PILGRIM. 

the worldly possessions of the devil's temptation in 
the desert ; lived poorly without any habitation of 
His own ; was constant in the fulfilling of the law, 
for the. sins of His Father's elected ; and last of all, 
obediently suffered death, offering Himself alone, 
crowned with thorns, upon the tree of the cross, for 
the redemption of all the number of the true 
Christians. And the Pope that arrogantly maketh 
not the mean people, but the Emperor himself, to 
kiss his foot, impatiently can he abide any man 
that would speak against his tyranny and abomina- 
tion ; resisteth not, but rather embraceth, the un- 
chaste, devilish temptation — that is to wit, omnia 
regno, mundi ; liveth more richly in his sumptuous 
and imperial palaces of his own ; hath no kind of 
constancy in doing any good thing that God's law 
commandeth, but hath so much to do with the 
merchandize of other men's sins that he cannot see 
to reckon with his own (for that little constancy 
that he hath is only in persecuting Christ's faithful) ; 
and, finally, is disobedient both unto Grod and 
nature, offering himself crowned with so many 
crowns of gold to the destruction of so many 
numbers of men, as daily be slain of all hands for 
his only cause. And it was not only proved that 
the Pope was thus contrary unto Christ in his 
doings, but also in his doctrine and ceremonies from 
the first to the last, too long now to rehearse ; yea, 
and that not this living Pope alone, but all they that 
are dead, being comprehended under that name, 
especially from the time of the said Boniface the 
Third forwards. For though the Popes have been 
diverse in outward customs, some less wicked than 



THE PILGRIM. 27 

others, yet in their inward hypocrisy they have all 
followed the devil's dam. But what need I to say 
so much, since I hear say there is a tragedy, 
entitled Free Will, which so well describeth his 
colours that there needeth no more doubt of the 
matter ?' 

' As you say/ said my Contrary, ' I have heard 
much reasoning of this tragedy ; but the learned 
men condemn it, and say that it hath neither form 
nor fashion of a tragedy/ 

' And wot you why ?■' said I. ' Because the tragedy 
condemneth the abomination of these your learned 
men, and therefore now that they can find no 
answer to deface the truth thereof, they only con- 
tend with the proportion. And are these the 
members of your Mother, the Holy Church ?' 
' Why/ said he, ' what can you say by our Mother, 
Holy Church ?' ' I say/ quoth I, ' that she is an 
arrant whore, a fornicatress, and an adultress with 
the princes of the earth, and an express enemy of 
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and of the lawful 
Church, the Espouse of Christ ; for as Christ, the 
Son of God, in lawful matrimony engendereth on 
His Holy Church, by the spawn of His blood spread 
on the cross, all the lawful begotten children of 
salvation in faith and charity, so the Pope, son of 
the devil, 'your god on earth, in fornication engen- 
dereth on your whorish Mother Church all the 
bastards of perdition that believe remission of sin 
in him by ignorance and superstition/ 

At the which words, my said adversary, all 
swelling with anger, approached me with his dagger 
to have stricken me ; but the other gentlemen 



28 THE PILGRIM. 

present, and in my quarrel, threatened him, assuring 
him that they would take my part when there 
should happen me any need, and so pacified him 
sooner than me, who, for the present fear, remem- 
bered not where I was ; for his sudden fury gave 
occasion of many words and much ado, and long it 
was ere ever my spirits were quieted. Finally, my 
memory returned, and being required of these gentle- 
men to proceed unto the rest of my purpose, seeing 
them earnestly attentive to hear me, in manner 
of exclamation, thus I began to say : — 

' Oh, Free "Will ! where art thou ? Oh, Patience ! 
oh, Humility ! oh, Discretion ! what have I offended 
you ? And yet I wis I little need to marvel, since 
common experience yieldeth me an approved an- 
swer; for when I regard the discourse of Phi- 
losophy, all said reckoned, I find the will of man in 
the bosom of his appetite, notwithstanding that 
the wise philosophers have ever coveted to place 
the will between reason and the appetite, in- 
differently inclinable unto either part at the man's 
free election. But now, to prove that the appetite 
against reason draweth no less the will unto him 
than substance of the earth and water, against the 
air and fire, draweth the body unto the heavy 
centre, I will seek no other witness but this gentle- 
man's own sudden motion against me. For you all 
can testify there was no man interrupted him whilst 
he said what he could against the honour of my 
Sovereign Lord the King deceased, of whom he hath 
used the extremest terms he could devise. And, 
again, I presumed not to defend him until, with one 
voice, you all had given me the charge and com- 



THE PILGRIM. 29 

mission so to do. So that reason would he should 
semblably have given me quiet audience, not to 
speak as an indifferent, but as his plain contrary. 
But when his appetite, hanging heavy in the balance, 
had drawn his will so low that reason was clean 
out of sight, then wrought his choler the venom 
that he would have vomited against my truth. For 
this will I offer, that if I be proved a liar, I am 
content, not only to abide your sentence, but also 
that punishment which he himself shall judge me 
worthy/ With which words I paused, so that they, 
fearing I would say no more, began of new to assure 
me from hurt, and prayed me not to leave off so 
rightly, but to return to my enterprised matter. 

' 3. ' Well/ said I, ' to satisfy you, I would take on 
me much more labour than this, and therefore, 
following my reason as touching the Bishop of 
Bochester and Thomas More, whom the King's Ma- 
jesty caused to be beheaded, if I should say that they 
were not learned I should impugn the verity. But 
in very deed their learning was much more grounded 
on the Thomistical, Aristotelical, and Scholastical 
philosophy, than in the Grospel of Christ, as here- 
after you shall perceive. For when the King's High- 
ness was fully persuaded to understand the Pope's 
usurped power, not by these my rehearsed autho- 
rities, but by more proofs than a whole Bible would 
contain, and by the consent of the greatest learned 
men's opinions of all the universities of Christen- 
dom, as there be divers alive in Padua, Pavia, Bo- 
logna, Paris, and elsewhere can testify, whose counsel 
his Majesty examined or ever he would attempt 
the disannulling and extirping thereof; his High- 



30 THE PILGRIM. 

ness then, I say, called his general Parliament, 
without which he determined no great matter. And 
this Parliament, to let you wit, is divided into two 
councils — the one of the Nobility and Prelates, and 
the other of the Commons of the realm ; that is to 
say, two of the wisest men of every city, of every 
great borough, and of every province of his dominion. 
Now, amongst these councils this Popish matter 
was propounded, and there was pro et contra held 
and kept more than a whole year long ; for in the 
Parliament the law permitteth all men to speak 
without danger, as well against as with the King. 
So that the old superstition having more authority 
in their obstinate hearts than the present verity, 
would not give place unto the King's purpose, until 
by open preaching throughout the realm, the blind 
people began so manifestly to see, that many of 
them who before most earnestly favoured the Pope 
became then his greatest enemies. Whereof there 
followed a statute, made by the same Parliament, 
that no man upon pain of death should call the Pope 
other than the Bishop of Eome, nor in any wise 
maintain — and thus ceased the Pope's revenue — his 
quarrel of Peter-pence, of jubilees, of indulgences, 
of pardons and dispensations, and such other bag- 
gage as beforetime availed the Pope's purpose better 
than ioo,oco ducats a year out of England. 

'You must now, nevertheless, understand that 
though this act passed so in the Parliament, yet all 
the parties in the same consented not unto it ; for 
the judgment in the Parliament cases is given by 
dividing the persons ; all that say yea on the one side 
of the House, and all that say nay on the other 



THE PILGRIM. 31 

side, and the most number do always attain the 
sentence. And so the purpose of the Bishop of 
Eochester, and More, among the rest, held with the 
negative part, according to their consciences, as I 
suppose. For when they saw the contrary to have 
place then hanged they down their heads, and mur- 
mured against the King, provoking his displeasure 
otherwise than it became subjects to do, and his 
Majesty thinking nevertheless by reason and fair 
means and time to persuade them, supported their 
ignorance more than nine months. But when their 
predestinate mischief would not suffer his benignity 
to overcome their hardened hearts, and that the 
King at length perceived their invincible obstinacy 
to have a beginning of operation — for the cardinal's 
hat was already upon the way coming to the said 
Bishop of Eochester, not only as a worthy reward 
of his merit, but also as a buckler under the which 
the Pope thought to handle his cruel sword — his 
Highness, I say, fearing the example of his prede- 
cessor, King John, or ever the hat arrived, shaved 
the bishop's crown by the shoulders, to see after- 
wards where the Pope could bestow his cardinal's 
hat ; and served More of the same after he had left 
them both four months in prison, and used all the 
means possible to dissuade them from their errors.' 
Here one of the gentlemen asked me what was 
that King John that I had named. To whom I 
answered that he was one that being King of Eng- 
land more than 300 years agone, sought that time 
to confound the Pope's usurped authority like as 
the last King had done; but because his bishops 
had at that time more power in his own realm than 



32 THE PILGRIM. 

he, after seven years' excommunication he was con- 
strained to renounce his royal crown into the Pope's 
hands; remaining private a certain space, he at length 
came on his knees before the Pope's legate to be 
assoiled, and there thankfully received his crown 
again. Was he not, trow you, well entreated ? I 
wot he was, forsooth, and finally well rewarded ; for 
a holy monk poisoned him, and so his miserable 
reconcilement had a miserable end. 

' 4. And as for the King's usurping of the Papal 
authority in dispensation of the Papal ecclesiastical 
bishoprics and benefices, I am sure that it is not 
unknown to you that every secular lord, as they call 
them in most places of their dominions, have dis- 
posed time out of mind, and given the private 
benefices to what priests it hath pleased them by 
the authority of the name of patrons of those bene- 
fices. So that the King, having tried the substance 
of the Papal authority with no less diligence than 
alchemists do the metals at the fire, finding him- 
self absolute patron of his private Christian domi- 
nion, thought it more meet, as Prince and Apostle, 
to attend himself unto the making and ordering of 
the bishops of the English Church, than to suffer 
one foreign bishop to make another by only infor- 
mation of the great carrier Mr. Money ; and there- 
fore enterprised to know both the person and 
bishopric, or ever he would dispose the golden 
mitre and silver pastoral. 

1 But in the other things he hath nothing followed 
the Papal dignity. For whereas the Pope, by his 
indulgences and jubilees, draweth the person unto 
idolatry to trust remission of sins in his beastly 



THE PILGRIM. 33 

authority, and by dispensations encourageth men to 
commit perjury, adultery, fornication, usury, murder, 
and infinite other such, contrary to God's command- 
ment, the King hath not willed to transform him- 
self into the idol of neither of these two cases by 
promising pardon of sins to them that believe in 
him, or by dispensing with the damnable doings of 
the wicked, but hath willed all men to be obedient 
unto the laws of justice, acknowledging himself to 
be less than a perfect man, and not more than a godly 
Christian, as the Pope presumeth to be : — the trial 
whereof is evident by the answer of Christ himself 
unto the mother of the sons of Zebedee, when He 
said it lay not with Him to grant the sitting in 
heaven on His right hand or on His left unto John 
and James, for they must sit there whom God the 
Father hath ordained thereunto ; and the Pope, 
remitting p&na el culpa, taketh out of heaven and 
thrusteth into hell, and out of hell by the way of 
his Purgatory carrieth into heaven whom it pleaseth 
him, placing this saint amongst the quire of mar- 
tyrs, and that other amongst the virgins, confessors, 
and holy fathers, patriarchs, and false prophets, as 
he list to canonize them ; of which canonization 
our St. Thomas of Canterbury is one, whose spoiled 
shrine and burned bones seemeth so greatly to 
offend your conscience. 

' 5. And it is true, I cannot deny, but that the 
King's Majesty found a wonderful great treasure 
about the same : for in the space of more than 250 
years, I think, there have been few kings or 
princes of Christendom that did not either bring or 
send some of their richest jewels thither ; and I re- 



34 THE PILGRIM. 

port me unto you then, what the recourse of the 
common people was to see that holy sepulchre, 
being so preciously adorned with gold and stone, 
that at midnight you might in some manner have 
discovered all things as well as at noon day. 

' But now to speak of this saint's life and holiness 
in few words — T shall relate unto you the effect of 
this story. His father was an English merchant, hut 
his mother was a Paynim, I wot not of what part 
of Barbary ; and he, the said saint, was brought up 
at school, where he studied so long that at length 
he became well learned in the canon laws, and 
then, grown unto man's years, he was brought 
by friendship to the Court of the King, and made 
the King's chaplain. This King was named Henry 
the Second; and in process of time began so to 
favour this blessed Saint Thomas for his courtly 
behaviour, that, by little and little, he exalted him 
from chaplain to a councillor, from councillor to 
bishop, and from bishop to the highest unto him- 
self — that is to say, Lord Chancellor of England. 
Finally, this Henry the Second, by good occasion, 
began to perceive the error of this malignant 
Church that reigneth still here among you; and 
like a good Christian Prince, would gladly have re- 
formed it, first, with correcting of the ministers' 
abominable life, and after with the due consequent 
remedies. But this holy saint having for his part 
the archbishopric of Canterbury, metropolitan of all 
the others, with as good as 50,000 ducats of yearly 
revenue, valiantly resisted him, and had that 
courage that, apparelled in his pontificals, with the 
mitre and golden cross, in the King's presence, he 



THE PILGRIM. 85 

accursed all of them that, in deed or word, would 
offend his Holy Mother Church, or any minister of 
the same ; insomuch that the King, kindled by 
his just disdain, banished him out of his sight, and 
after remembering how villanously his unkind slave 
in his own realm sought of a King to make him a 
subject, sent some of his officers to lay hand on him. 
But this saint, advised hereof by way of traitorous 
intelligence, escaped out of the realm, and fled unto 
Borne, where of the Pope he was worthily re- 
ceived, quia mutuo militabant. And hereupon the 
Holy Eoman Consistory excommunicated the King 
and all his partakers, and openly interdicted the 
realm of England, which interdiction had so much 
the more effect, by as much as the other bishops 
that remained at home were of more authority than 
the King : so that, in term of four years there was 
no mass sung, nor other like good thing said in the 
churches. Finally, the Pope wrought so much 
with the Most Christian King, and the Most Chris- 
tian with the less Christian, that the saint was 
reconciled, the priests licensed to consecrate, and 
the Holy Mother Church in peace ; but there was a 
triumph with ringing of bells, I trow. 

'Well, sir, in conclusion, this blessed Saint 
Thomas would not thus be contented, but after a 
certain time his choler began to work, that he 
ashamed not openly to use, I wot not what oppro- 
brious words against the King, which one day were 
referre'd to his Grace as he sat at meat. ' Yea/ said 
the King, ' have I brought him up of nought to 
drive me out of my realm ? If I were served with 
men as I am with women, he should not thus con- 

d 2 



36 THE PILGRIM. 

tend with me in mine own house/ These words 
were marked of them that waited at the table, in 
such wise that, without more ado, even four of those 
gentlemen waiters conferred together, and straight- 
way took their journey to Canterbury, where, tarry- 
ing their time, one evening finding the bishop in 
the common cloister, after they had asked him cer- 
tain questions, whereto he most arrogantly made 
answer, they slew him. And thus began the holi- 
ness. For incontinently as these gentlemen were 
departed, the monks of that monastery locked up 
the church doors, and persuaded the people that the 
bells fell on ringing by themselves ; and there was 
crying of ' Miracles ! miracles !' so earnestly, that 
the devilish monks, to nourish the superstition of 
this new-martyred saint, having the place long time 
separate unto themselves, quia propter sanguinem 
suspenduntur sacra, corrupted the fresh water of a 
well there with a certain mixture, that many times 
it appeared bloody, which, they persuaded, should 
proceed by miracle of the holy martyrdom. And this 
water marvellously cured all manner infirmities, in- 
somuch that the ignorant multitude came running 
thither of all lands ; especially after that these false 
miracles were confirmed by the Pope's canonization, 
which followed within four years after, as soon as 
the Eoman See had ratified the saint's glory in 
heaven. Yea, and more ; these feigned miracles had 
such credit at length, that the poor King himself 
was persuaded to believe them, and, in effect, came 
in person to visit the holy place, with great re- 
pentance for his passed well-doing; and for the 
satisfaction of his sins, gave many great and fair 



THE PILGRIM. 37 

possessions unto the monastery of the aforesaid 
religious. And thus, finally, was this holy martyr 
sanctified of all hands. But the King's Majesty 
that now is dead, finding the manner of this saint's 
life to agree ill with proportion to a very saint, and 
marvelling at the virtue of this water that healed 
all diseases, as the blind world believed, determined 
to have substantial proof of this thing, and, in effect, 
found these miracles to be utterly false. For when 
the superstition was taken away from the ignorant 
multitude, then ceased also the virtue of this water, 
which now remaineth plain water, as all other waters 
do. So that the King, moved of necessity, could no 
less do than deface the shrine that was author of so 
much idolatry. "Whether the doing thereof hath 
been the undoing of the canonized saint or no, I 
cannot tell; but this is true, that his bones are 
spread amongst the bones of so many dead men, that, 
without some great miracle, they will not be found 
again.' 

' By my troth,' said one of the gentlemen, e in 
this your King did as I would have done.' 

' What ?' said my adversary, ' do you credit 
him ?' 

' Within a little,' said that other ; ' for his tale is 
sensible. And I have known of the like false 
miracles here in Italy proved before my face.' 

' 6. 'Now,' quoth I, ' hearken well unto me in 
this mine answer against miracles, and you shall 
hear things of another sort. In times past, Eng- 
land hath been occupied with more pilgrimages 
than Italy is now. For as you have here our Lady 
in so many places — di Loretto, di Gracia, di Mira- 



38 THE PILGRIM. 

coli, l'Annunciata, di Fiorenza, San Boches, San 
Antonio di Padua that presented God's body to 
an ass, and so many others as ye know ; even so 
had we our Lady of Walsingham, of Penrice, of 
Islington, St. Thomas, St. John of Salstone that 
conjured the devil into a book, and so many holy 
roods that it was a wonder. And here and there 
ran all the world ; yea, the King himself, till God 
opened his eyes, was as blind and obstinate as the 
rest. I mean in the time when he wrote against 
Martin Luther. And those roods and these our 
Ladies were all of another sort than these your 
saints be; for there were few of them but that 
with engines that were in them could beckon, either 
with their heads and hands, or move their eyes, or 
manage some part of their bodies, to the purpose 
that the friars and priests would use them ; and 
especially one Christ Italianate, that with the head 
answered yea and nay at all demands. 

' But, among the rest, I shall tell you one thing 
especially. In a certain monastery called Hailes, 
there was a great offering to the blood of Christ, 
brought thither many years agone out of the Holy 
Land of Jerusalem ; and this blood had such virtue 
that, as long as the pilgrim was in deadly crime, his 
sight would not serve him to regard it, but incon- 
tinently as he was in the state of grace he should 
clearly behold it. See here the craft of these devilish 
soul-quellers ! It behoved each person that came 
thither to see it, first to confess himself, and then, 
paying a certain to the common of the monastery, 
to enter into a chapel, upon the altar whereof this 
blood should be showed him. There, meanwhile, 



THE PILGRIM. 39 

by a secret way behind the altar, came the monk 
that had confessed him, and presented upon the 
altar a pix of crystal, great and thick as a ball on 
the one side and thin as a glass on the other side ; 
in the which the blood on the thin side was open 
and clear to the sight, and on the thick side impos- 
sible to be discerned. ~Now if this holy confessor 
thought by the confession that he had heard that 
the quality of the party confessed would yield him 
more money, then showed he forth the thick side 
of the pix, through which the blood was invisible ; 
so that the person, seeing himself remain in deadly 
sin, must turn and return to his confessor, till, by 
paying for masses and other such alms, he had 
purchased the light of the thin side of the crystal, 
and then was he safe in the favour of Grod until he 
fell in sin again. And what blood, trow you, was 
this ? These monks (for there were two especially 
and secretly appointed to this office) every Satur- 
day killed a duck, and revived therewith this con- 
secrated blood, as they themselves confessed, not 
only in secret but also openly, and before an ap- 
proved audience. 

' And was this miracle, think you, alone ? No, 
no, alas ! if I should train you with the rehearsal 
of spiritual miracles, I should tell you of thousands 
as true as this, or rather better ; for we had holy 
maidens that lived not by manna as the Jews in 
the desert, but by food of impalpable spirits; 
and such as could tell all the secrets of God, 
and how all men's matters went in heaven ; where - 
unto this your gallant auricular confession was 
so diligent a minister that it were a wonder to 



40 THE PILGRIM. 

tell. And can you blame the King though he 
hanged and burned those hypocritical knaves and 
whores that were authors and actors of so much 
abomination and superstition ? And did he not as 
good service unto God in destroying the places of 
these imaginary saints that drew the people unto 
the belief and trust of these false miracles, as the 
good Hezekiah, King of Judah, did in destroying 
the Mosaical brazen serpent and overthrowing the 
excelsa, the images, and hallowed woods conse- 
crated to their idols ? Yea, undoubtedly did he. 
For all the miracles that the blind people conceive 
to proceed from these images, or by means of these 
represented saints, are clean repugnant to the 
Christian faith, and also unto God's perfection. 
And the reason is this : God is only divine and 
perfect, who by His Divinity of nought hath created 
all things, and in His perfection containeth and 
governeth all things to that end that He immu- 
tably hath determined. And every angel, every 
devil, and every man is a creature without either 
deity or perfection, since everything that hath 
beginning or end is imperfect. And whereas God 
is present everywhere, and worketh all in all things 
as Paul affirmeth, the creature, contrarily, is pre- 
sent only to the place of his service ; as the angels 
in heaven, the devils in hell, and the men in earth. 
Now to my purpose ; if the saints, who are crea- 
tures, be in heaven, and want, as they do indeed, 
the perfection of God's Divinity, how is it possible 
that, absent from the earth, the saints, whom the 
earthly man imagineth for his advocates, should 
hear the man's prayer, though well he would cry 



THE PILGRIM. 41 

with a trumpet's voice towards heaven, Bancta 
Maria, ora pro me? And again, none knoweth 
man's thoughts but Grod alone ; neither angel, 
saint, nor devil ; for the Scriptures affirm God to be 
the only Searcher of the heart; so that, neither 
hearing me nor knowing my heart, it is impossible 
how the saints should be means of my relief. And 
as it is proved before, the Holy Scriptures affirm 
Christ to be only Mediator betwixt Grod and man, 
prohibiting all faithful Christians to seek other 
means ; for who recurreth to the saint cannot deny 
but that he trusteth sooner to speed that way than 
by the immediate going unto Christ, and so 
doubteth in Him in whom only he ought to trust. 
For maintenance of which their infidelity these 
sophistical theologians have made them a god of 
glass, wherein they imagine the saints to behold 
our necessities, appointing every one of them unto 
a private office ; like as first one Dennis, and after 
him Thomas of Aquinas, hath placed the offices of 
angels, this to the cherubim and that to the flying 
seraphim, that other to the dominations, and so 
forth, after his own fantastical imagination, con- 
trary to the doctrine of Paul, who, being ravished 
to the third heavens, saw things not lawful to be 
spoken : whereas this blessed Thomas, ravished in 
his own conceit above all the heavens, hath spoken 
of the celestial spirits things that he never heard 
nor saw. But the ignorant multitude that are 
always more inclinable unto error than unto the 
truth, have tasted such a savour in their imagina- 
tions, that because Grod commonly granteth not the 
things that they most desire, they therefore have 



42 THE PILGRIM. 

framed gods that will do for them when they be 
prayed unto, believing the better to attain their 
purpose by many than by one. 

' And hereof hath it followed that when some 
person hath escaped any imminent danger, re- 
covered health from a grievous sickness, or cure of 
a sore wound, passed some dangerous tempests of 
the sea, or obtained some victory in arms, or some 
riches or possessions, incontinently he yieldeth 
thanks therefore unto his familiar advocate in 
heaven, bv whose means he imasrineth to have re- 
ceived such benefits ; which otherwise the mutable 
God, as he believeth, would never have granted 
him ; and therefore runneth to this or that image 
with candles, torches, lamps, incense, bells, and 
a thousand other tricks ; affirming this and that 
miracle, which in effect are no other but their 
false and ignorant imaginations. And as to the 
burning of lights before those images, it is so 
foolish a thing that meseemeth it rather meriteth 
to be laughed at than spoken against. But this 
take I to be the reason that moveth them there- 
unto ; because the light of the sun sumceth not to 
direct the eyes of those their dumb idols by the 
day, therefore in the daytime do they serve them 
with enforced light that should serve for the night ; 
Or else they do it to blemish withal the brightness 
of the sun, whose light may perchance be no less 
enemy to their nature than contrary to the light of 
the night owl ; for by right they agree so well with 
the dark, that till the sun's arising, they need no 
light at all. This I speak for the formal saints ; 
for that deformed body, which, of all others, is sup- 



THE PILGRIM. 43 

posed to liave most life, may in no wise want light 
in the night, but perchance he should happen to 
arise at some inconvenient hour. But what need I 
thus to occupy myself with those foolish saints and 
pilgrims, since the thing is now so manifest unto 
all men that have eyes, that who is he that 
cannot with reason, beside the authority of the 
Scriptures, confound this ignorance ? Wherefore I 
will now despite me to speak of the monasteries 
which his Majesty suppressed, to the intent that 
you may understand what was the first occasion 
thereof. 

' 7. And thus. When his Highness had found out 
the falsehood of these jugglers, who led the people 
unto tliis idolatry of worshipping of saints, believing 
of miracles, and going on pilgrimage here and there 
(as unto this hour you see it used here in Italy), 
being persuaded by the presumption of these special 
things that I have rehearsed, and of infinite others 
too long now to be mentioned, that these abominable 
friars were the very false prophets and roaring 
wolves whom Christ prophesieth in the Gospel 
should come under the apparel of lambs to devour 
the flock of true Christians — his Majesty, for the 
better discovering of these hypocrites, sent forth 
commissioners into all the provinces of his realm, 
to examine particularly the manner of living that 
these ribalds used. Now came the matter fully to 
light ; for when the commissioners had taken upon 
them the charge of this examination, and began 
one by one to examine these friars, monks, and nuns 
upon their oaths, sworn upon the Evangelists, there 
were discovered hypocrisies, murders, idolatries, 



44 THE PILGRIM. 

miracles, sodomies, adulteries, fornications, pride, 
and not 7, but more than 700,000 deadly sins. 

' Alas ! my heart maketh all my members to 
tremble with another manner of fever than is the 
quartain, when I remember all the abomination 
that there was tried out. Oh Lord Grod (speaking 
under correction), what canst Thou answer to the 
Five Cities consumed with celestial fire, when 
they shall allege before Thee the iniquities of 
those religious whom Thou hast so long supported ? 
Note well (said I), these few words, and I shall 
tell you : — In their dark and sharp prisons there 
were found dead so many of their brethren that it 
was a wonder ; some crucified with more torments 
than ever men heard of, and some famished only for 
breaking of their superstitious silence, or some like 
trifle; and especially on some children there was 
used a cruelty not to be spoken with human 
tongue. There was of the hermits some one that, 
under colour of confession, had used carnally with 
more than 200 or 300 gentlewomen and women 
of reputation, whose names, enrolled by command- 
ment, they showed unto the commissioners, inso- 
much that some of the selfsame commissioners 
found of their own wives titled among the rest, 
with what conscience I report me unto you. There 
was working of wonders ; the friars and nuns were 
as whores and thieves in the open street, and 
there were saints that made the barren women 
bring forth children; unto whom there wanted 
no resort from all parts of the kingdom. Alas ! 
what should I say when Ptolemy his discourse, 
Pliny his memory, and Augustine his pen, joined 



THE PILGRIM. 45 

in one man, should not satisfy to make him an apt 
author of so detestable a history as this abomina- 
tion requireth ? 

* Well, to my purpose. In conclusion, upon the 
return of these commissioners, when the King was 
fully informed of the case, incontinently he called 
his Parliament ; but, or ever the councillors of the 
same could assemble together, here came that abbot, 
and there came that prior ; now came that abbess, 
and there came that prioress from all parts of the 
realm unto the King, offering their monasteries 
into his hands ; beseeching him to pardon them 
their sins de pcend only, and not de culpa; insomuch 
that his Majesty accepted many of them, and par- 
doned them all except a few only of the most 
notable ribalds, whom, for the others' example, he 
caused to suffer death in divers ways as their hor- 
rible cases diversely merited. And thereupon fol- 
lowing the said Parliament, in the which all these 
matters were not only published, but also confessed by 
the false religious persons brought openly in judg- 
ment, it was concluded, both by the Barons and also 
by the Commons of the said Parliament, that these 
monasteries should be extirped, and the goods and 
revenues thereof disposed as the King and his 
council should think it expedient. He had made 
his learned doctors to search out the grounds of 
these many evils of religion, who, conferring the 
same substantially with the Gospel, found it to be 
clean contrary to the Christian religion, by many 
more reasons than I can well remember. Never- 
theless, for your satisfaction, I shall here rehearse 
one or two of them, to the intent you may the 



46 THE PILGRIM. 

better taste what wickedness that superstitious reli- 
gion doth comprehend. 

' First, the religious do profess themselves to live 
much more nobly than the secular people do, and 
by as much as they can, will persuade the world 
that they are no sinners, but just and upright 
persons, by which reason they have wiped them- 
selves clean out of Christ's vocation, who saith He 
came not to call the just person but the sinner. 
And then the good works that they pretended to 
do are all outward works ; as apparelling themselves 
in religious habits, singing and roaring in the quire, 
saying of their service in Latin, with matins and 
masses, and holy abstinence from flesh this day 
and that morrow, when they have filled their bellies 
with good fish, fruit, and wine. And such other 
are their holy outward operations ; whereas Christ 
exhort eth us to beware that we work not our justice 
before man, but secretly in giving of alms, that 
the one hand know not what the other doth ; in 
quiet and hearty prayers ; in fastings, and charity, 
and so forth j of which inward virtues those religious 
are known to be utterly void. 

' Furthermore, the vows that these religious make, 
and that they teach others to make, are clean re- 
pugnant to Christ's doctrine, who teacheth His 
faithful evermore humbly to submit themselves to 
the will of the Father, as by the example of 
His prayer which He made in the garden the 
night before His death, it is manifest. For when 
the flesh had prayed the Father to deliver Him 
from that present passion, incontinent the spirit 
rebuked Himself, saying, 'No, Father; not as I 



THE PILGRIM. 47 

will, but as Thou wilt.' And yet these religious 
promising unto God that which already they 
are bound to observe — that is to say, chastity, 
charity, obedience, and poverty, which in effect 
the infirmity of the flesh alloweth no creature to 
perform — will not that God deal with them as He 
will, but as they will themselves ; who with their 
superstitious works will enforce God to give them, 
not only health and wealth in this world, but also 
Paradise in the other world ; and by their example 
have taught the ignorant multitude not to content 
themselves with the infirmities, adversities, poverties, 
persecutions, and passions that God sendeth them 
in this world, but with vows of images, of tables, of 
pilgrimage, of change of apparel, and of such other 
baggage, to enforce God by His saints, and not by 
Christ, to give them health, prosperity, riches, and 
joy, according to their inconstant pleasure. And 
hereof hath followed the building of monasteries, 
synagogues, chapels, chantries, with burning of 
lights, incense, singing of masses, and ringing of 
bells, when the blind people have believed with these 
worldly trifles to gratify the Divine Majesty. But 
what saith the prophet ? what saith Stephen ? what 
saith Paul ? c God/ say they, ' dwelleth not in 
temples made with hands, nor can receive nothing 
of any earthly matter; for what things have we 
here that He hath not created, and what availeth 
it unto God our foolish sacrifices ?' As David saith, 
4 If thou, Lord, wouldst have sacrifices, I would 
have offered them unto Thee, but the incense 
pleaseth Thee not/ The true sacrifice, therefore, 
unto God, is the humble, contrite, and contented 



48 THE PILGRIM. 

spirit, and not these temples, incenses, images, 
flesh, fish, or fruit. And so much found those 
doctors to say against those religious that, in con- 
clusion, they condemned them to be worse infidels 
and enemies unto God than the idolater Caffraries 
of India found out by the Portugals.' 

■ Caffraries/ said one of the gentlemen, ' what 
be they, I pray you f 

1 They be/ said I, e a certain people that do wor- 
ship the devil in images, as you do here the saints.' 

' And by what reason/ said he, ' should they 
worship the devil?' 

' By such a reason/ said I, ' as will make you to 
wonder. First, they believe one virtuous God to 
be the universal Creator of all things, who, in His 
perfection, must needs be just. And then, by the 
only law of nature, and by the malice that reigneth 
in the flesh, they acknowledge themselves in envy 
and other such to be contrary unto the divine 
virtue, so that the justice, as they believe, cannot 
less do than condemn them unto perpetual damna- 
tion, whereof the devil is minister ; and so imagining 
that who most devoutly serveth the devil in this 
world, must of reason receive of him most favour 
when he cometh to him in the other world, they 
therefore most diligently observe infinitely their 
ceremonies unto the devil with fasting, alms, and 
prayer, in hope that their present penance shall be 
a mitigation of their pains to come. Tell me now, 
I pray you, how you like all this.' 

' As I do all the rest/ said my Contrary ; f for in 
this case you prefer them that serve the devil before 
the servants of God.' 



THE PILGRIM. 49 

* 'No,' said I, ' you mistake me. For your monks, 
friars, and nuns, I say, serve not God, but serve 
themselves, proudly presuming against God to be 
just, holy, and righteous of themselves ; whereas the 
other poor idolaters confessed God only to be vir- 
tuous and themselves to be sinners ; and therefore 
will I so prefer them, that if they had knowledge 
of God's mercy in Christ as we have, I fear me 
their works would prove much more Christian than 
ours do. But come we to an end with these our 
religious. Finally, these doctors found that Paul 
in his Epistles had reproved the Christians for 
dividing themselves after the manner of these 
Christian preachers, who had been ministers unto 
their conversion, because some one said, ' I am of 
Paul / and another said, ' I am of Apollos / ' I of 
Cephas ;' and ' I of Christ/ What said Paul ? 
' Was I crucified for you ? Is Christ divided among 
you ? No/ said he, ' I have taught you to be one 
self thing in Christ in those divisions, either of name 
or of doing/ So that, in conclusion, these orders 
of Francis and Dominick, of Bennet and Bridget, and 
of so many others, were condemned by those doctors 
as things clean contrary unto the true Christian 
religion, in which all the faithful to Christ bound 
in one knot of charity, in belief of clean remission 
of sins, are regenerate to one self order and rule, 
without difference either of name, habit, order, or 
colour. Wherefore, the King being clearly per- 
suaded of all hands that this unhappy, idle, and 
devilish generation was to be rooted out of the 
world, proceeded then to the destruction of these 
synagogues with the self-same diligence Titus and 

E 



50 THE PILGRIM. 

Vespasian used towards the destruction of Jeru- 
salem. And did he not there as he should do, 
trow ye ?' 

' Yea/ said one of these gentlemen ; ' if he had 
disposed these things to the use of the poor and 
needful, and not taken it into his own private com- 
modity.' 

' Against the poor/ said I, ' I will not speak ; hut 
thus much I will say, that if all the substance had 
been converted to the poor, the poor should have 
become richer than the princes and nobles ; for our 
religious in England were quasi nihil habentes et 
omnia possidentes, not in spirit but in deed. I wot 
how your friars here in Italy observe their sworn 
poverty ; and yet this is well true that his Majesty 
in divers provinces of the realm hath converted 
divers of these monasteries towards the bringing 
up of orphans and instruction of the poor, though 
will that part be but a small quantity in respect of 
the whole. 

' 8. And thus because I will not be tedious, having 
said enough, as meseemeth, unto this point, I will 
now answer unto the insurrection of the North,* 
which was cause of the death of those noblemen 
that my Contrary hath here spoken of. 

' True it is that when those commissioners who 
had the charge of inquisitions on these friary 
matters had passed throughout the realm, here and 
there whereas their commissions led them, these 
our holy spiritual religious, who had been shriven 
of the lay persons with another manner of auri- 



* See Note C. p. 104. 



THE PILGRIM. 51 

• 

cular confessions than the Lently penitential sacra- 
ment requireth, suspecting the sequel of that which 
justly followed indeed, hegan with sowing of sedi- 
tions here and there, to corrupt the minds of the 
ignorant and inconstant people ; insomuch that a 
cobbler (mark these beginnings), encouraged by the 
presumptuous audacity of one private monk in the 
city of Lincoln, gathered unto him certain other 
artisans and villains such as he was himself, and in 
less than three daj^s made himself a head of better 
than 3000 men, and under the name of Captain 
Cobbler, began a brave rebellion, laying hands on 
divers of the King's ministers, and putting some of 
them unto death, with robbing and spoiling some 
others, as it seemed them to make for their purpose, 
so that, had not there been gentlemen who, by fair 
means, by authority and friendship, pacified the 
ignorant multitude, no doubt of it, there should 
have followed such effusion of blood, such robberies 
and flames, as an hundred thousand flattering friars, 
with their catalogic sermons, could never have recom- 
pensed. Behold here the peril of this nation, who, 
for a cobbler and a knavish friar, not knowing any 
cause why, and without either money or provisions, 
would thus suddenly dispose themselves to war 
against their own blood ! What, trow you, would 
they have done under some nobleman, upon some 
ground, with men and money? No, no, I shall 
tell you more ; if this cobbler had had the know- 
ledge how to govern these men when he had them 
together, to have gone forwards towards some enter- 
prise, within less than two days more he should 
have found better than 20,000 men more to have 

e 2 



52 THE PILGRIM. 

followed him. But when they were together, they 
wist not what to do, and therefore the authority 
and the wisdom of the gentlemen the King's 
friends, without force or stripes, so confounded 
them, that they fled every man to his own home 
with more diligence than they came forth ; and so 
the matter quieted, and a few of the principalest 
taken and hanged, the number was pardoned with- 
out more ado. 

1 But see what mischief followed of this possi- 
bility. Those our religious men knowing right 
well what this Captain Cobbler would have done, and 
not regarding what became of him indeed, disposed 
themselves anew to prove their fortune, being as- 
sured that if the King's Majesty should continue, 
there was none other but rack with them : and 
therefore, in the furthest part of the North, began 
another rebellion, the captain whereof was named 
Aske, a man of mean degree. And this second 
rebellion was of another sort than the first ; for in 
few days they had made an army of 16 or 17,000 
men, whereof there were certain noble persons, and 
many men of reputation, especially of the prelates 
of your Mother Church, for whose whorish defence 
all this sedition was moved. And this army came 
on, journey by journey, towards the heart of the 
realm, little less than 100 miles, until, by force of 
floody waters, and not by resistance of men, they 
were stayed before Doncaster, in the county of 
York. And mark here the judgment and provi- 
dence of Grod ; the King was then at "Windsor 
Castle, besides London, making of men and putting 
of order here and there for his defence, as the case 



THE PILGRIM. 53 

required • but his people came so slowly unto him, 
his secret superstitious enemies within his realm 
were so many, and the fury and power of this new- 
raised army so great and sudden, that he wist not 
well whom to trust, nor what to do ; so that for ex- 
treme remedy, he sent his chief councillors unto 
Doncaster to treat with the rebels, to hear what 
they would demand, and to promise them what they 
would ask : which councillors used all diligence to 
arrive at the appointed place, where they treated 
with these adversaries according to their commis- 
sions. But had it not been that the waters letted 
them so long of their passage that their victuals 
and money were clean consumed, those rebels had, 
for that time, given small audience to any treaty. 
Finally, the presence of those councillors had so 
much authority amongst the enemies, that, with 
reason and fair promises, they were appeased. For 
when they came to reasoning, in very deed they 
wist not well what to demand, except the preserva- 
tion of their Holy Mother Church, which their 
prelates and religious did evermore beat into their 
heads ; and so, in effect, the King at that time par- 
doned them all, as you have alleged. Now, here 
cometh the matter that ofTendeth you. Divers of 
those persons, as well nobles as others, when they 
were returned to their quiet houses, and saw plainly 
that the King did constantly follow the reformation 
of the abominable Church, could not for all this 
be contented to see the things pass against their 
superstitious belief, but incontinently renewed the 
old practice of rebelling again; and in one place 
there were gathered together 200, in another place 



54 THE PILGRIM. 

ioo, here 50, there 20, and there 10, so that all the 
country was in a new rumour. But the garrisons 
of men that the King had this meanwhile spread 
through those countries, incontinently overcame 
those small commotions, in such wise that for fear 
each man withdrew him to his house. And the 
matter after substantially examined, the prin- 
cipalest of them were taken, and certain of them 
hanged and beheaded ; that is to say, the Captain 
Aske, the Lord Darcy a baron, four or five knights 
of account, and eight or nine gentlemen, besides 
certain religious monks that were the ticklers of all 
this mischief. So that they who were put to death 
suffered not for their first rebellion — that they were 
pardoned for — but for the second commotion, where- 
in was found a continuance of their prepensed ma- 
lice, not so much (as I believe) against the King's 
person, as against the light of the verity which 
their superstitious consciences would not allow. 
And how say you now? Know you any Prince 
that would have done less than this in so im- 
portant a case ?' 

f I cannot tell you/ said mine adversary, ' how 
well here is manifest effusion of Christian blood/ 

' Alas V said I, ' can that hardened heart of yours 
relent unto no reason ? Tell me, I pray you, but 
your opinion in this one question I shall ask you. 
When this body is burdened with an extreme fever, 
or other sickness, through the corruption of corrupt 
blood, the continuance whereof should put him in 
danger of his life, doth the physician well, by in- 
cisions of his veins, to draw away his blood that is 
enemy of this man's health, or were it better, by 



THE PILGRIM. 55 

suffering it to continue, he should let the man abide 
in peril of destruction of his body ?' 

'Oh/ said my Contrary, ' what a question is this !' 
' Why then,' said I, ' you must needs grant me 
that better it was to draw blood of a few persons 
who were the corruption of a whole realm, than to 
suffer the whole realm to perish. For if they might 
have had their wills, the least thing that could 
have followed must needs have been the blood- 
shedding of a stricken civil battle ; and when well 
they had overcome the King, there would have fol- 
lowed none other but perpetual contention, undoing 
of themselves and of their neighbours, to bring 
their country a prey unto strange nations. But 
unto you there helpeth neither reason nor argu- 
ments ; and therefore, since I see I cannot satisfy 
you, I will dispose to satisfy these gentlemen as 
near as I can. 

' 9. Now, as touching the King's so many wives, 
whom he chopped and changed at his pleasure (as 
you say), the truth is, that he hath had a great 
many wives, and with some of them hath had as 
ill-luck as any other poor man ; and I shall plainly 
tell you, from one to one, how the matters have 
passed. That gentle and virtuous Lady Katherine, 
his first wife, was divorced from him, as you have 
heard, because she had been wife unto his elder 
brother; and in effect, within two or three years 
after that the King was married anew, whether it 
were by consumption of thought, or by course of 
nature, I cannot tell, she yielded her spirit unto 
God, leaving none other fruit behind her but her 
daughter, that courteous Lady Mary, whom we 



56 THE PILGRIM. 

have so often mentioned. Now, incontinently after 
that divorce, the King married his second wife, as 
I have said, named the Lady Anne Bolene, whose 
liberal life were too shameful to rehearse.* Once 
she was as wise a woman, indued with as many out- 
ward good qualities in playing on instruments, 
singing, and such other courtly graces, as few 
women were of her time ; with such a certain out- 
ward profession of gravity as was to be marvelled 
at. But inwardly she was all another dame than 
she seemed to be ; for in satisfying of her carnal 
appetite, she fled not so much as the company of 
her own natural brother, besides the company of 
some three or four others of the gallantest gentle- 
men that were about the King's proper person, who 
were all so familiarly drawn into her train by her 
own devilish devices, that it should seem she was 
always well occupied : the busy doing whereof gave 
the King great cause of suspicion ; so that finding 
by search the imagined mischief to have effect, he 
was forced to proceed therein by way of open justice, 
where the matter was manifested unto the whole 
world, and the sentence given against them : inso- 
much that both she and her brother, and the four 
other gentlemen, were beheaded : for adultery in a 
King's wife weigheth no less than the wrong reign 
of a bastard prince, which thing for a commonwealth 
ought specially to be regarded. And, besides this, 
it was laid to her charge, that she, with some 
of the rest, had conspired the King's death, to 
avoid the danger of the wickedness which they 



* See Note D. p. 116. 



THE PILGRIM. 57 

perceived could not long be kept secret. And this 
second wife lived with the King about the space of 
four years, having issue a daughter by him named 
the Lady Elizabeth, which is at this present, at 
the age of fourteen years or thereabouts, a very 
witty and gentle young lady. 

' Now when the first wife was dead and the second 
beheaded, then was the King undoubtedly clear of 
all sides ; and in that estate took to wife the Lady 
Jane Seymour, one of the humblest and chastest 
maidens in the world, replete of all beauty and 
wisdom ; who, living in perfect and loving matri- 
mony with his Majesty the term of eighteen months 
or thereabouts, brought into the world that happy 
Prince Edward that now succeedeth the father unto 
the crown, in whose birth she died ; a death surely 
much lamented of all the King's subjects, as few 
the like, for a woman, hath ever been heard of.* 

' But to be brief. After her death the King re- 
mained a widower almost two years, till at length, 
upon agreement, he coupled with the sister of the 
Duke of Cleves, with whom he continued half a year, 
until information was brought him that she, the 
Lady Anne of Cleves, had been troth plight before 
with the Duke of Lorraine his son. And this re- 
port went sore unto the King's heart, who loved 
this woman out of measure; for why? her per- 
sonage, her beauty, and gesture did no less merit it. 
But when he understood that she was indeed an- 
other man's wife, what for his own conscience, and 
what for respect of the inconvenience that in this 



* See Note E. page nj. 



58 THE PILGRIM. 

case might follow unto his succession, he called his 
Parliament, where, after long reasoning and proof, 
concluding that the promise made between man 
and woman is it that maketh the marriage between 
husband and wife, and not the ceremony of the 
temple, his Majesty was there openly divorced 
from her. Howbeit, for the singular love he bare 
unto her, he offered her liberty to remain in Eng- 
land at his honourable provision, or to return into 
her country with worthy reward. So that she, 
electing England's provision, was appointed by his 
Majesty unto fo^: excellent fair palaces, with all 
kinds of commodities, and better than 20,000 crowns 
of yearly revenue; wherein she livethlike a Princess 
as she is.* 

' And thus separated from her, he married his fifth 
wife, named Katherine, of the house of Norfolk,! 
a very beautiful gentlewoman, and, to worldly judg- 
ment, a very virtuous and chaste creature, though 
in effect the contrary was found afterwards. Eor 
ere ever she continued two years the King's wife, 
it was heard that before her marriage she had con- 
taminated her virginity, and afterwards committed, 
or, at the leastwise, sought means to commit, 
adultery. So that, in conclusion, she and two other 
gentlemen with her, after condemnation before the 
justice, were beheaded. And finally, this his last 
wife, likewise named Katherine, was married unto 
him a widow, after that she had been wife unto two 
noble barons of the realm, deceased. And it is 
thought that his Majesty married more for the 



* See Note F. p. 121. f See Note G. p. 158. 



THE PILGRIM. 59 

same proof of her constant virtue than for any 
carnal desire. For, remembering the dishonour 
that he had received by the lightness of his other 
two wives beheaded, he thought now good to fasten 
upon an approved dame, as he did indeed : for this 
lady hath lived thirty-three or thirty-four years with- 
out spot of blame, how well she is right fair and excel- 
lent, proportionable of body, beloved of all creatures, 
and courteous as may be, whose fortune hath had 
place to see the death of that husband that had 
seen the death of so many wives. And, amongst all 
the happy successes that the said King hath had in 
this life, I reckon this one of the special, that, after 
so many changes, his glorious chance hath brought 
him to die in the arms of so faithful a spouse/ 

' The discourse of these wives/ said one of the 
gentlemen, ' is a wonderful history. But one thing 
maketh me to marvel/ said he, c that when those 
wives had so offended the King, he did not rather 
rid them by some fair means out of the way secretly, 
than so openly to manifest his own dishonour to 
the world/ 

' I shall tell you why/ said I. ' In such things 
his Majesty had as upright a conscience as any living 
man ; and, I dare say, would not have consented 
unto the murder of one of them secretly for all the 
goods of the world. And, again, he esteemed not 
the dishonour of the matter, since the fault pro- 
ceeded from the woman, who for the same suffered 
open punishment; so that he accounted himself 
always clear before Grod and man. And thus hath 
he had six wives, whereof two have died in their 
beds, two have suffered for adultery, and two are yet 



60 THE PILGRIM. 

living (as you say). But the one of them, you must 
consider, was the first wife before God of the Duke 
of Lorraine's son, as I have said before, and not 
unto the King. So that he that would learn the 
truth of matters must covet to know as well the 
contra as thejyro, or ever he can judge well. For 
he that giveth credit unto the first information 
without hearing the answer, is most commonly 
deceived : and so were you, master mine/ said I 
to my Contrary. 

' Good faith/ said he, ' I cannot tell what I should 
say • for the reports that I have rehearsed I have 
heard them of credible persons and of men of 
good intelligence, who persuaded me undoubtedly 
to believe as I have said. And though I have now 
well heard your answer, yet am I not fully per- 
suaded ; for methinketh you have set many things 
forth to the largest : whether they be true or not, 
God knoweth, for they pass my capacity.' 

' At the largest !' said I ; ' that is true, for I speak 
without respect. But here you may see what dif- 
ference there is between knowledge and hearingsay. 
Because I know indeed, therefore I am sure of it 
that I speak ; and because you know none otherwise 
but by report, therefore are you from your surety 
come now to doubt of your truth. Wherefore I 
pray Grod, if it be His will, so to open your heart 
that you be not among the number of them to 
whom God giveth eyes without sight and ears with- 
out hearing, to the end they should not understand 
the remedy of His grace/ 

' As for that/ said he, ' let God do with me as 
Him pleaseth. But I promise you of one thing ; 



THE PILGRIM. 61 

I would it had cost me forty crowns on the condi- 
tion I had "been twenty miles hence this night.' 

'Why?' said I. 

' Because,' said he, ■ before this reasoning I was 
as constant a Catholic man as any was living, and 
now that I have heard these many arguments, I am 
brought into a labyrinth that I know not what way 
to get me out.' 

' A Catholic man !' said I ; ' nay, God grant you 
are not worse than a Jew ; for whereas the Jew 
trusteth in his own good works and ceremonies, and 
nevertheless belie veth in the true divine Grod alone, 
you not only trusted in your own good works (as 
you call them), and in the foolish ceremonies of 
your stepmother Church, but also have made you 
an earthly god of the Pope, in whose pardons you 
trusted more than in Christ's death. But this 
pleaseth me that you are come to your doubt, for 
so behoveth it him that out of an error will be 
persuaded to know the truth. 

' 10. And therefore, returning unto my matter, 
now will I answer unto the persecution of Cardinal 
Pole, and unto the death of his mother and friends ; 
which, in effect, is nothing so marvellous nor so 
cruel as it is made here in Italy ; and so I doubt not 
you shall well confess by that time you have heard 
how the things have passed. I cannot deny but 
that this Cardinal Pole, in very deed, is both virtuous 
and learned as you have commended him ; for, by 
all men's reports that knew him, I have heard such 
laud and praise of his continent, patient, and cha- 
ritable life, and of his great and profound doctrine, 
that against his person will I say nothing; but 



62 THE PILGRIM. 

against his being this will I say, that it had been 
better he had died in his cradle than lived to be an 
occasion of so much mischief as hath followed for 
his sake, and is yet likely to follow.' 

' Beware !' said my Contrary ; ' speak not ill of 
him, for here be of his friends that will not hear 
him slandered.' 

' As for my part,' said I, ' I am not his particular 
foe. But you must consider that I now defend not 
only a King's honour, but also the quiet of a whole 
realm, against such lewd and false reports as are 
sufficient to corrupt a whole world of good con- 
sciences, and to move sedition between brother and 
brother. So that, because the defence of this case 
enforceth me somewhat to touch the quick, I shall 
pray you to pardon me if I happen to offend you, 
assuring you I will for your sake forget some things 
that should be too homely to be spoken. 

' In the time that the King's Majesty extirped and 
disannulled the Bishop of Bome's usurped power, as 
heretofore I have rehearsed, this Reginald Pole that 
now is cardinal, practised here in Italy, sometimes 
studied in the University of Padua, and sometimes 
in Yenice, bearing the port of a gentleman, as the 
nobility of his house required, and was from time 
to time well advertised out of England of all the 
occurrents there ; so that the law of the Parliament 
against the Papists was right well known unto him. 
Now, sir, being in Yenice, the great Contarine (who 
of late days was by the Pope's means poisoned in 
Bologna for subscribing the article of Justification 
unto the Almaines), before his vocation unto the 
cardinalate, fell into such a wonderful amity and 



THE PILGRIM. 63 

knot of friendship with this our Pole, that the one 
of them was never well without the other. And 
here began this mischief. For Contarine was no 
sooner crowned with the red hat but that unfor- 
tunately he sued unto the Pope to bring Pole unto 
the same degree ; so that with much ado the Pope 
consented, and thus was our Pole placed in the 
Holy Consistory. Whether it were the earnest love 
of Contarine' s company that blinded him, or the 
obstinate superstition of the Papal dignity that 
persuaded him, or else the ambition of the carnal 
glory that allured him, or what other devil moved 
him I cannot tell : but once no man knew better 
than he that the uniting of himself unto the 
whorish Church of Eome should bring himself and 
all his friends out of the King's favour, out of the 
good will of his country, and in perpetual excom- 
munication of the Church of England. And what 
true man towards his Prince or country, if he were 
not mad, would then have entered into such a fury, 
seeing the example of the Bishop of Rochester and 
More, with the present estate of the realm before 
his face, unless he thought with the Papal power to 
overcome the kingly puissance ? Alas ! sufficed it 
not for a younger brother, as he is, to have an 
honourable entertainment at home amongst his kin 
and friends, where his virtue and learning might 
have found to have done great and high service, 
not only unto his Prince and King, but also 
unto his whole native country, the contrary 
whereof hath been the undoing of him and all 
his blood ?' 

' Of himself/ said my Contrary, ' that is not so ; 



64 THE PILGRIM. 

for he liveth as honourably and in as good reputa- 
tion as any other cardinal, whatsoever he be/ 

' And if he were an emperor/ said I, ' being 
erring to his country, as he is, I can reckon him no 
better than most unhappy. For, if the proverb be 
true, ' Sweet is the love of his country/ by conse- 
quence, the hate of his country must needs be sour. 
But to my purpose. This, our Pole, had not the 
red hat warm on his head, but the Pope sent him 
in post, now to the French King, now into Spain to 
the Emperor, now into Flanders, now here, now 
there, to solicit the wars against his own native 
country and his Sovereign Lord and King, offering 
himself always to be a minister of that effect. And 
not contented with these outward provocations, he 
also wrote secretly to his mother and eldest brother 
to work sedition at home ; and some of his letters 
had so ignorant recajjito that they came to the 
King's hand ; who, moved not only thereby, but also 
by many other sensible presumptions, to examine 
the matter, at length found out the truth, more by 
miracle than by human discourse. For he having 
retained the cardinal's youngest brother, named 
Sir Geoffrey Pole, only upon mistrust, without any 
approved matter to lay unto his charge, he in the 
prison desperately would have mischieved himself, 
which by the diligence of his ready keeper, was de- 
fended. And so being straitly examined where- 
upon he could have attempted so wicked an act, at 
last he confessed all the whole conspiracy for the 
which his mother and brother and those other nobles 
suffered, which also, or ever the year passed, was by 
divers other ways discovered in the proof of more 



THE PILGRIM. 65 

effects than you would believe. For the holy religious 
abbots of Eeading and Glastonbury had conjured 
the said cardinal's elder brother, named the Marquis 
Montague, with the other Marquis of Exeter;'* 
and so far was the matter gone from hand to hand, 
that some of the King's most familiar friends, and 
of his Majesty's privy chamber, and of his council, 
were corrupted with that malicious person. Yea, 
and moreover, it passed conspiracy to come to effect. 
For part of these rebels, to the number of 800, in 
the second insurrection in the North, were paid 
with money sent them from those abbots out of the 
South. How say you now ? Was it time, trow you, 
for the King to look about him ?' 

' These be things,' said my Contrary, ' that I 
never heard of.' 

' No/ said I, ' there blow so many winds between 
the Alps and the ocean sea, that the true air of 
England can never arrive here into Italy uncor- 
rupted.' 

* Oh,' said he, ' and well remembered ; tell me, I 
pray you, next unto the King's children, ought not 
the crown to have come unto Cardinal Pole ?' 

' And why unto Cardinal Pole ?' quoth I. 

' Because he is of the King's blood,' quoth he. 

' It is true,' said I, ' he is descended of a King's 
blood, but it is so long ago that he is further off 
from this King then living, than the living Jus- 
tinians of Venice are from the ancient Emperor 
Justinian, and as near is he to the crown as they to 
the empire.' 

* See Note H. p. 162. 



66 THE PILGRIM. 

' Oil Lord/ said he, ' how this gear joineth with 
the fame of Italy/ 

'And thus may yon see/ said I, 'how ignorance 
and error reigneth amongst the multitude ; and were 
it not for your sakes, I could tell you how the 
cardinal secretly professeth to be a Protestant, and 
openly maintaineth the Papacy with a little more 
hypocrisy yet than that cometh to. 

' ii. But I will for this time forget him, because 
of his new election unto the legation of England, 
and will speak of Ireland and Scotland, which you 
say the King wrongfully enforced. You must 
understand that the Kings of England have had 
dominion over a great part of Ireland these 300 
years* and more, by reason whereof both the 
country and nation hath been divided into two sundry 
parts — that is to say, the English pale and the wild 
Irish ; and like as they of the English pale always 
used the self- same religion, customs, laws, and 
manners of civil living that we use in England, so 
contrariwise they of the wild Irish, as unreasonable 
beasts, lived without any knowledge of God or good 
manners, in common of their goods, cattle, women, 
children, and every other thing, in such wise that 
almost there was no father which knew his son, nor 
no daughter that knew her father, nor yet any 
justice executed for murder, robbery, or any other 
like mischief; but the more force had ever the 
more reason. And hereof it followed that because 
their savage and idle life could not be satisfied with 
the only fruit of the natural unlaboured earth, there- 



See Note I. p. 169. 



THE PILGRIM. 67 

fore continually they invaded the fertile possessions 
of their Irish neighbours that inhabited the said 
English pale, reaping and mowing the corn that 
they sowed not, and carrying away the cattle that 
they nourished not. And this beastly fury which 
so long had reigned in this Irish nation, hath many 
times moved the King's predecessors with all their 
forces, and with great and puissant armies, to seek 
their destruction ; but like as one poor fox in a 
thicket maketh the hunter with twenty couple of 
hounds to travail sometimes a whole day, and at 
length to lose his labour ; so these wild Irish made 
those Kings, with their huge numbers of men, to 
beat so long the wild woods and marshes, that at 
length they were fain to recoil with the only gain 
of famine and weariness. And therefore the King's 
Majesty that now is dead wrought another way 
with them ; for he layed in such substantial garrisons 
in the straits of his borders, that they could no 
more enter unto the English pale, unless they would 
either be slain or taken prisoners ; so that, being 
prevented of their accustomed liberty to rob and 
spoil, necessity constrained them to humble them- 
selves not only to a perpetual peace, but also to a 
quiet obedience and order. Yea, and when his 
Majesty, by policy and by the good diligence of his 
faithful deputy there, Sir Anthony Sillinger, had. 
thus overcome them, to confirm his force with 
mercy, he rewarded divers of those wild men with 
great sums of his own money, appointing them 
places of ' civil honour, as earls, barons, knights, 
esquires, and such other as the quality of those 
persons seemed unto him most convenient. And 

r 2 



68 THE PILGRIM. 

by this means hath brought the nation from rude, 
beastly, ignorant, cruel, and unruly infidels, to the 
state of civil, reasonable, patient, humble, and well- 
governed Christians ; not for desire of dominion or 
for avarice of revenue, but for God's honour and for 
a Christian peace, at his Majesty's own cost and 
charge, in the expense of so many thousand crowns 
as were too long now to tell. And look how the 
wild Irish before time warred against the same, even 
so have the Scots ever done, and yet do, against the 
Englishmen, like for like ; by paragon, I say, in the 
wars only ; for in their living the Scots observe a 
certain order both of religion and customs, though 
well it be somewhat barbarous. But if God had 
given the King his life but one or two years longer, 
you should surely have seen the same success of 
Scotland that you have heard me rehearse of Ire- 
land ; for his Majesty was resolved, either by force or 
by love, to have gotten in his hands that young 
daughter that now is heir to the Scottish crown, 
and by marriage of her to his son Edward, that 
now is our King, to have made of one self-divided 
nation a realm, one self perpetual united people, 
and peace ; not for the wealth of the Scottish 
dominion (which, in respect of England, is of as 
good comparison as the barren mountains of Savoy 
unto the beauty of the pleasant Tuscany), but for 
the uniform quiet of their approved ancient con- 
tention. In very deed, if his Majesty in this case 
had followed the example of Joshua, to have brought 
his people of the desert into the champaign, I would 
never have gone about to excuse him ; but since, 
contrariwise, his travail hath been to bring his 



THE PILGRIM. 69 

people out of the champaign into the desert, which 
is a manifest witness against his defamed avarice, 
meseemeth that they are much to hlame that there- 
fore would burden him with tyranny. 

' 11. And as for his conscience in the motion of 
war against France, I would give the Emperor 
place to answer, whose unfortunate persuasions 
were occasion thereof. And what know I of the 
practices between the Duke and the French King? 
But as for the usurping of Boulogne, I say that not 
the Boulognaise alone but the most part of all 
Picardy is not sufficient to satisfy the debts that 
the French King did owe unto our King's Majesty ; 
what for the money lent him to pay his ran son? 
withal unto the Emperor when his sons lay therefore 
prisoners in Spain j what for the restitution of 
Terouenne and Tournay, which our King's Majesty 
conquered upon the French King in his youth ; 
what for the tribute, and what for one thing and 
what for another, that it were a marvel to reckon 
the infinite sums of money in credit between them.' 

' Tribute 1' saith one of them. ' Why ? doth the 
French King pay tribute to England ?' 

' Yea, that he doth,' saith I. 

- And wherefore, I pray you ?' quoth he. 

1 1 shall tell you,' said I. f More than 200 years 
past, when the right line of the King of France 
failed of heirs male, then was Isabel, the only 
daughter and heir of France, wife unto Edward the 
Second, then King of England, by whom she had 
issue Edward the 3rd, that succeeded his father to 
the crown of England. Now what did the barons 
of France when they saw that, following the right 



70 THE PILGRIM. 

succession, of force they must become subjects unto 
England, the shame and servitude whereof could 
not in the Frenchmen be supported ? They incon- 
tinent! v studied a remedy, and made a law that no 
heir female should inherit the crown of France ; 
proceeding forthwith to the crowning of Philip de 
Yalois, and after him of King John that followed. 
And so rested in peace a certain time until this 
Edward the 3rd, son of the said Isabel, came to the 
possession of England; who had no sooner the 
sword in hand, but into France he goeth, and there 
hewed and burned so long, that at length in plain 
battle he took this King John prisoner, and leading 
him into England, kept him there more than three 
years. Finally, seeing it impossible to govern 
France in peace, being King of England, he fell at 
a composition with the said King John for his 
ransom, besides the which for a memory of his in- 
terest, he reserved in the articles of record these 
two covenants : that is to say, that the French King 
and his successors should perpetually pay unto the 
crown of England 50,000 crowns, or thereabouts, of 
yearly tribute ; and should have, and should leave 
also, the title of King of France unto the Kings of 
England ; by authority whereof the King of Eng- 
land writeth unto this day himself Rex Anglice et 
Francice, and the French King writeth Rex Fran-' 
cor urn. And this tribute hath the French King 
foreborne to pay these sixteen or seventeen years 
past, so that I thought it worth the reckoning 
among other debts.' 

c As you say/ said another of them, e the honour 
is more worth than the money.' 



THE PILGRIM. 71 

c It is very true,' said I ; ' but this will I speak 
against myself, that a good Christian ought not to 
fight, neither for money nor for honour. But 
where am I now? Good faith, I remember not 
well what resteth me to answer/ 

' Marry,' said my Contrary, ' the marriage of 
the King's daughter, and the Duke of Norfolk's 
death.' 

' Alas, alas ! ' said I, ' I am already tired ; but 
because he that goeth to the battle loseth by his 
blood- shedding if he fight it not out, I will see how 
I can overcome this little rest with as few words as 
I may possibly. 

'13. If I should say that the Lady Mary, the 
King's daughter that is, deserveth not a husband, 
I should surely prove a silly young man ; and 
therefore will I now make you my judges ; when 
for a stature of a woman's body she is neither too 
high nor too low ; for beauty of face she hath few 
fellows that I know, and in proportion of members 
my pen cannot paint her. But what is all this? 
Nothing. For when I come to consider her virtue, 
her shadow maketh me to tremble — all the pru- 
dence, all the modesty, all the courtesy, all the 
sober smiling cheer that may be in a woman is 
surely in her ; prompt in invention, awares in 
speech, learned in the tongues, perfect in music to 
sing and play ; and on the lute and virginals, with- 
out master in all the world ; yea, she is grateful to 
all persons, that I wot not what living creature 
were sufficiently worthy to describe her. So if a 
husband might be a reward unto the bounty of so 
gracious a lady, I will say she is and ever hath been 



72 THE PILGRIM. 

worthy to have had the worthiest husband of the 
world. But now to the purpose of that her father 
would not consent she should marry (as I can 
imagine — not that I know this for surety) two 
several respects moved him thereto : the one, that 
to marry her to any one of meaner estate than her 
degree required, it should have been a great blemish 
to her and her honours ; and the other, that to 
marry her to a high personage until his son, the 
King that now is, were established in his realm, it 
might have been occasion of some civil sedition or 
impediment of his son's quiet dominion. And were 
not, trow you, these considerations good ?' 

' Yea,' said my Contrary, ' since this son was born; 
but before?' 

' Before/ said I, ' he ever hoped to have a son ; 
and then, also, was his divorce fresh and new, which 
allowed him not at that time to dispose her in 
marriage. And this sufficeth of her Grace. 

' 14. Finally, unto the death of the Duke of Nor- 
folk, and of his son, the Earl of Surrey, I must 
answer you by the same hearsay that you have 
opposed me ; since, being in Italy, mine ears on 
matters of England have more power than mine 
eyes. Now, as I am informed, this Earl of Surrey, 
who was a young man, that after his father's death 
should have been the greatest lord in England 
next the King, seeing the King sickly and not 
like long to continue, imagined with himself how 
he might attain the crown. First, he considered 
well how the Prince was young, and not able to 
govern himself; and then he perceived how the 
multitude of inconstant people were diverse of 



THE PILGRIM. 7S 

religion, some Protestants, some Papists ; so that 
with a little power of his friends he thought it 
possible to draw one of these parties to him, and by- 
some foreign help to attain his purpose. But God, 
that confound eth the vain men in their vain 
thoughts, brought these imaginations to knowledge 
by means of some of his friends, to whom in figure 
he had promised the coming of a fair day ; which 
words, revealed unto the King, and compared with 
the suspected ambition of that young man, and with 
other presumptions more than I know, caused his 
Majesty more diligently to examine the matter; 
insomuch that there were certain arms found set 
forth by him the said Earl of Surrey, wherein the 
royal arms of England were joined with his, and one 
picture especially, in the which he had painted him- 
self with the crown on his right hand and the King 
on his left hand j so that when he was brought into 
the open judgment he could not deny but that he 
had devised means to bring his purpose to effect ; 
whereunto the duke Lis father was privy, who there- 
fore incurred the semblable danger. But, as I hear 
say, the King that is dead pardoned the old duke's 
life ; and I cannot hear for a truth he should be 
dead. But if he were, I warrant you (said I) it is 
not so without good cause ; for a poor soldier that 
came even now from the Emperor's camp, told me, 
in Florence, not four days agone, that he had heard 
a whispering among the soldiers, how that the said 
Earl of Surrey, at his being with the Emperor 
before Landrecey, was entered into intelligence with 
divers great captains, and had gotten promise of aid 
towards the furniture of his intent. e Yea,' said 



74 THE PILGRIM. 

he, 'and further; he should have been the Em- 
peror's man for the self-same purpose.' I will not 
say (quoth I), that this is true, but when the mean 
private soldiers are grown so commonly to talk of 
these things, it is to be presumed that amongst the 
great captains there should be somewhat of import- 
ance, for without some fire there was never smoke.' 

' It is possible enough/ said one of them ; ' for I 
myself, who have been in the Emperor's camp, have 
heard many reasonings of this matter, insomuch 
that it was doubted whether this young Prince were 
legitimate or no.' 

' Legitimate !' said I, ' that were a doubt indeed ; 
for I am sure there can no creature be legitimate if 
he be not. Do you not remember how I have 
showed you how the King that is dead, after the 
decease of his two first wives, was cleared unto all 
the world or ever he married the third wife, on 
whom he begat the young King Edward that now 
is ; so that there can be no kind of reasons made 
against his legitimacy. Alas ! (said I), if you knew 
the towardness of that young Prince, your heart 
would melt to hear him named, and your stomach 
abhor the malice of them that would him ill ; the 
beautifullest creature that liveth under the sun; 
the wittiest, the most amiable, and gentlest thing of 
all the world ; such a spirit of capacity for learning 
the thing taught him by his schoolmasters, that it is 
a wonder to hear say ; and, finally, he hath such a 
grace of port, and gesture, and gravity, when he 
cometh into any presence, that it should seem he 
were already a father, and yet passeth he not the 



THE PILGRIM. 75 

age of ten years — a thing undoubtedly to be much 
rather seen than believed, Alas ! (quoth I) ; nay, 
alas ! again ; what cruelty should move these raven- 
ing dragons to covet the devouring of so meek an 
innocent lamb with the seditions of such devilish 
rumours ?' 

'No, no, I shall tell you why,' said my Contrary ; 
' the King was interdicted by the Church of Eome 
when he begat the Prince, and therefore, perchance 
it may be said his title is not good/ 

' Grood faith/ said I, ' and so may it be as well 
said that because the realm hath been this fifteen 
years no less interdicted than the King, therefore 
shall the earth bring forth no fruit ; and yet, thanks 
be to God, since the world began we had never 
greater plenty of all things than we have had in 
this time, by so much the more as the idle bellies 
of the great multitude of our ancient religious 
persons have now no more license to devour, spoil 
and waste our ploughman's travail. But, believe 
me well, they that make them such a church of 
warm wax to serve all moulds, at length with 
changing of their figure, may happen to lose their 
form. How now (said I to my Contrary), are you 
satisfied ? J 

' Unto all your arguments, I am and I am not,' 
said he. 

' I wot not how, by the holy mass,' said one of 
them who erst had spoken no words; 'thou hast 
quit thyself like a tall fellow ; and if thou wilt go 
with me to dispute in a case of contumacy that I 
am called for before the Pope's legate, I will seek 



76 THE PILGRIM. 

none other advocate, and thou shalt have a crown 
for thy labour.' 

' I am no canonist, sir,' said I, - nor cannot 
therein serve your purpose. Quia non protestor 
protestationes appellandi! 

' No,' said he, ' I will that you do no more than 
declare my reasons.' 

1 Eeason !' quoth I, ' before the legate ! That 
were a way indeed to bring me into limbo. Have 
I not told you that the Pope and all his ministers 
are express enemies to all good reason and verity ?•' 

1 In faith, in faith/ quoth my Contrary, ' if the 
legate did know of your reasoning here to-night, I 
would not be in your coat for another crown.' 

' I know that well enough,' said I, ' for the least 
reward I should receive would be the result of one 
of these three — the sword, the prison, or the fire ; 
and when well he had done his worst, because he 
can do no more than bring me to my death, the 
end of all my misery, and beginning of all my true 
joy, I would not greatly pass of his tyranny; 
remembering this saying of Job unto the Lord, 
' Short be the days of man, and Thou hast with thee 
the number of his months • Thou hast ordained him 
his terms, which he cannot pass.' Nevertheless I 
will keep out of his danger as well as I may, for I 
will straight to Venice, where I trust to be free.' 

' Nay, by our Lady,' said he, ' there are you de- 
ceived ; for if you be known in Venice, the legate 
that liveth there will straightways have you by the 
back.' 

' Why,' said I, ' is it possible that the famous 
liberty of that city should be in so much servitude 



THE PILGRIM. 77 

that the lords thereof would suffer me for the just 
defence of my Prince to endure persecution under 
their wings ; specially since the amity between them 
and my said King hath been so perfect, that when 
the Pope, with all the other princes of Europe, 
entered into a confederacy together for their de- 
struction, our said King only remained their friend. 
But let God work His will, for I have determined 
in this case to trust more unto the justice of their 
first glorious commonwealth than to fear the 
tyranny of the Pope, who, under a counterfeit name, 
not only usurpeth the monarchy over the princes of 
the world, but also seeketh the blood of the poor 
labourers of the earth. And if you will find out a 
false knave by the changing of his right name, I 
will you do but mark this little title that I shall 
tell you. Papa in the Greek tongue, pronouncing 
the first syllable short, and the last long, is under- 
standed a priest in the English tongue; and the 
Greeks unto this day call their priests JPape ; so 
that Pope came first unto Home as a poor private 
priest, none otherwise. But when, in process of 
time, after the priests had converted emperors, 
they began to take upon them temporal bishoprics, 
usurping all manner of worldly possessions and 
honours ; then the glorious Bishop of Eome, being 
ashamed of so base a title as priest, made them pro- 
nounce the short syllable for the long, calling him- 
self Paapa for Papaa ; and so, with turning the 
wrong side outwards of a poor priest, he is grown 
to that glory that you see him in. And to prove 
again that he is no less a counterfeit in his doings 
than in his names, he writeth himself servus ser- 



78 THE PILGRIM, 

vorumDei, whereas he in very deed servethno true ser- 
vants of Grod, but rather utterly persecuteth them. So 
that, to understand this title well, I can find no good 
interpretation, unless you would say that the devil's 
are Grod's servants, as the hangman is minister of 
the justice, who, for his own private gain, would 
hang all the men in the world if the justice would 
suffer him : and as the hangman useth the pliant 
halter to strangle withal the condemned persons, 
so may we say the devils, God's servants, use the 
popes as their ministers, to bring our poor souls 
unto perdition. 

' But let me these trifles pass, to come unto a con- 
clusion of our King, whose wisdom, virtue, and 
bounty my wits suffice not to declare : of per- 
sonage he was one of the goodliest men that lived 
in his time, very high of stature, in manners more 
than a man, and proportionable in all his members 
unto that height; of countenance he was most 
amiable, courteous and benign in gesture unto all 
persons, and specially unto strangers; seldom or 
never offended with anything, and of so constant a 
nature in himself, that I believe few can say that 
ever he changed his cheer for any novelty how con- 
trary or sudden soever it were. Prudent he was 
in council and forecasting ; most liberal in reward- 
ing his faithful servants, and ever unto his enemies 
as it behoveth a Prince to be : he was learned in 
all sciences, and had the gift of many tongues ; he 
was a perfect theologian, a good philosopher, and 
a strong man at arms; a jeweller, a perfect builder 
as well of fortresses as of pleasant palaces ; and from 
one to another there was no necessary kind of 



THE PILGRIM. 79 

knowledge from a king's degree to a carter's but 
that he had an honest sight in it. What would 
you I should say of him? He was undoubtedly 
the rarest man that lived in his time. But I say 
not this to make him a god, nor in all his doings I 
will not say he hath been a saint ; for I believe 
with the prophet, non est Justus quisquam, non est 
requirens Deum, omnes declinaverunt, simul inutiles facti 
sumus, non est qui facial bonum, non est usque ad 
unum. I will confess that he did many evil things 
as the publican sinner, but not as a cruel tyrant, or 
as a pharisaical hypocrite ; for all his doings were 
open to the whole world, wherein he governed him- 
self with so much reason, prudence, courage, and cir- 
cumspection, that I wot not where — in all the his- 
tories I have read, to find one private king equal to 
him ; who in the space of thirty-eight years' reign 
never received notable displeasure, how well that at 
one selfsame time he hath had open war on three 
sides ; that is to say, with France, Scotland, and 
Ireland; insomuch that being in person with his 
army in France, he hath had a bloody battle 
stricken in the Borders, between him and the Scots, 
of 70,000 or 80,000 men, whereof his perpetual good 
fortune granted him most famous victory, with the 
triumph over his enemy the Scottish King, slain in 
that battle. And, finally, mark well this proof; 
the perfect present author for an extreme example 
of a happy man can allege no greater than Pol?/ crates 
Samian, who for all his prosperous days, finished his 
life nevertheless in mischief in the cruel hands of 
his enemies ; whereas this King Henry the 8th not 
only hath lived most happily, but also hath died 



80 THE PILGRIM. 

most quietly in the arms of his most dear friends, 
leaving for witness of his most glorious fame the 
fruit of such an heir as the earth is scarcely worthy 
to nourish, who, I trust, shall with no less perfec- 
tion reform the true church of Christ, not per- 
mitted by his said father to be finished, than as 
Solomon did the true Temple of Jerusalem, not 
granted to David in the time of his life. For who 
would speak against the dead King Harry might 
much better say he did see with but one eye, and 
so accuse him for lack of putting an end to the 
reformation of the wicked Church than for doing of 
the things he hath done against the apostolical 
Roman law. And who will consider well the dis- 
course of the truth shall find the root of all the 
rehearsed mischiefs (if mischiefs they may be called) 
to have grown either in the bosom of the Pope, of 
the cardinals, and of their prelates and ministers, 
or else of those superstitious lay people, as they call 
them, who have borne more faith unto the members 
of the malignant Church than unto the true God 
Himself. So that to make a just exclamation, you 
ought to cry out against the exterminate tyranny 
of your whorish Mother Church, and say — Oh you 
Romans, oh Bollognese, oh Eavennates, or Parme- 
sans, or Placentines, or Avignons, how can you thus 
abide, not only to be oppressed with so many cus- 
toms, taxes, and tallages, that the poor can find no 
food, but also to have your .blood drawn even unto 
death ? Oh commonwealth of Florence, why suf- 
fered thou Pope Clement to take from thee thy 
liberty ? And thou Duke Cosmo di Medici, how 
canst thou suffer those friars of St. Mark, proved 



THE PILGRIM. 81 

for open ribalds, to dwell in thine own house in thy 
despite ? No, no, I will forbear to speak of any 
other things that I could allege as good as this ; 
which indeed are so manifest, rebellions, or rather 
tyrannies, against their just and lawful Princes, that 
they cannot be denied, and yet is there no man that 
dare once speak or open his mouth against those 
ribalds. But it may chance the Turk will come 
one day to put the office of Christian Prince in 
execution, since they themselves will not attend 
unto it. How say you, my masters (quoth I), are 
these things true or not ?' 

' They be true,' answered they all ; and passing 
from one matter to another whilst the time of 
supper approached, we fell into divers talk of things 
too long now to rehearse ; and albeit, gentle reader, 
that unto the proof of my purpose in this one dis- 
putation, I did truly allege many more reasons than 
in this my little book are written, which, in case of 
scrupulous doubt, might perchance some time more 
perfectly have guided thee unto true knowledge, 
yet shall I beseech thee in that behalf not to accuse 
me of sloth ; for my intent in this doing tendeth to 
none other but unto the just excuse of my wrong- 
fully slandered Prince, whose good renown, fame, 
and honour, I most heartily commend unto thee. 

And thus farewell. 



G 



NOTES. 



Note A. 



JUDGMENT was never pronounced in the Legates' Court ; 
but the case arrived at a point where the sentence, if 
sentence were given, could only be in the King's favour ; and 
the Emperor, to protect Catherine, was obliged to insist on 
the avocation of the suit to Borne. 

The following letters add something to our knowledge of 
the influences which were at work below the surface. Inigo 
de Mendoza was a secret agent of Charles V. in England. De 
Praet, who became afterwards celebrated, was Minister at 
Home. 

Inigo de Mendoza to Charles V. 
June 17, 1529. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

When I left London the Queen's affair was hardly spoken 
of; the process was suspended. There seemed to be no 
occasion to enter protests or register appeals ; and Campeggio 
was uncertain whether the Cardinal of York w^iuld consent 
to act under the commission. After arriving at Bruges, how- 
ever, I heard that the King was again urgent for haste, and 
that the Queen had received a summons to appear before the 
Legates on the 28th of this present month. Her Majesty 
wrote on the instant to give notice to the Begent, and to beg 
that the two lawyers who were with her before might be sent 
over. English advocates, she said, would not speak for her 
with as much freedom as strangers. Notwithstanding this 
letter, my Lady the Begent thought, that inasmuch as her 
Majesty had pleaded that her cause could not have a fair 
hearing in that realm, the lawyers had better not go. I conceive 
myself, however, that the Queen of England desired their 
presence merely that they might decline in her name the juris- 
diction of the Legates' Court, and allege for her the grounds 
of her objections. She will be distressed, as your Highness 
may suppose, when she finds that they do not arrive ; and her 
friends will lose heart, and believe that she is abandoned. But 

g2 



84 NOTE A. 

my Lady the Regent may alter her mind. At present she 
thinks only of sending to Borne. 

Dr. May has written to me of his interview with the 
Pope. He has sent me a copy of the protest which he has 
entered in the Queen's behalf. I should have forwarded it to 
your Highness were I not sure that you were already informed 
of everything. His Holiness is putting oif the fulfilment of 
his promises till the last moment, and I fear that, notwithstand- 
ing the doubts which have hitherto been entertained about it, 
he may have directed the Legate to proceed on the first com- 
mission. Should this be so, your Majesty may consider the 
Queen's cause as lost. I have instructed her, however, through 
a notary, whenever the court threatens sentence, to appeal, 
and to demand to be heard at Borne, in arrest of judgment. 
If this is done, the sentence will be invalid ; but I am afraid 
that she is deceived by her advisers. No doubt she has some 
good and true men about her, but there are others in whom I 
have little confidence ; and for this reason it is most important 
that she should have the assistance of the lawyers. Not only 
is the Queen, as I have always assured your Majesty, a most 
devout and honourable woman, but she unites in her person 
a number of indirect advantages ; and she deserves all the 
exertion which we can make, and all the assistance which we 
can render. 



M. de Praet to Charles the Fifth. 
Rome, August 5, 1529. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

Unless I mistake, the majority of the cardinals are better 
disposed towards your Majesty than towards any other 
sovereign. Space will not permit me to repeat what they 
have said to me ; suffice it that their words are all that you 
can desire. Dr. May has reported to your Majesty a con- 
versation which he has held with some of them touching bene- 
fices and the like. I should say myself (and I have said it 
often before) that your Majesty may have the whole college 
at your devotion for ever if you will spend twenty thousand 
ducats among the leading cardinals in pensions and benefices. 
Grive one of them a thousand, another two or three thou- 
sand, and you will find the money well laid out to your advan- 
tage. 

The business of the Queen of England was despatched, as 
you will have heard, two or three days before my arrival. 
They have been so dilatory that I fear, before the ' avocation' 



NOTE B. 85 

arrives in London, the King may have proceeded to some 
scandalous act or other. Your ambassador was not to blame 
for the delay. I have spoken to his Holiness. I have told 
him that such conduct discredits the Holy See, as much as it 
affects your Majesty. Pious Christians are offended, and the 
Lutherans and heretics seek for nothing so much as an occasion 
to calumniate his Holiness and the Papal chair. 

A letter from the English ambassador here has been inter- 
cepted. He writes largely, and, as it were, desperately, of the 
whole business. We have shown it to his Holiness. Your 
Majesty will find it in the present packet. 



Note B. 

With the avocation of the cause to Eome, the positions of 
the Queen and King were reversed. Catherine declared that 
she could not receive justice before the Legates in London. 
Henry, with as much truth, asserted that there was no pre- 
cedent for the appearance of a Sovereign Prince as a suitor in 
the Papal Court. He could neither plead in person there, nor 
acknowledge the lawfulness of the summons by deputing a 
proctor, even were the case of such a nature that it could be 
trusted to a proctor's management. The marriage question 
merged itself into a discussion on the Papal privileges. 

The King had from the commencement received the support 
of the Court of France. Both Francis and his ministers en- 
couraged him in a course which would separate England from 
the Empire ; and as eagerly they invited the Pope to make 
concessions which would be an injury and an affront to Charles 
the Fifth. 

The next group of letters illustrate the successive aspects 
which the struggle assumed before it ended in the Act of 
Supremacy and the revolt of England from the Papal com- 
munion. 

The Cardinal of Lorraine to Cardinal at Rome. 

Paris, Jan. 8, 1531-2. [MS. B^bliot. Impdr. Paris.] 

Bight Beyerend Father and Lord in Christ, — After our 
most humble commendations — The King of England complains 
loudly that his cause is not remanded into his own country ; 
he says that it cannot be equitably dealt with at Borne, where 
he cannot be present. He himself, the Queen, and the other 



86 NOTE B. 

witnesses, are not to be dragged into Italy to give their 
evidence ; and the suits of the Sovereigns of England and 
France have always hitherto been determined in their respective 
countries. 

Nevertheless, by no entreaty can we prevail on the Pope 
to nominate impartial judges who will decide the question in 
Eugland. 

The King's personal indignation is not the only evil which 
has to be feared. When these proceedings are known 
among the people, there will, perhaps, be a revolt, and the 
Apostolic See may receive an injury which will not afterwards 
be easily remedied. 

I have explained these things more at length to his Holiness, 
as my duty requires. Your affection towards him, my lord, 
I am assured is no less than mine. I beseech you, therefore, 
use your best endeavours with his Holiness, that the King of 
England may no longer have occasion to exclaim against him. 
In so doing you will gratify the Most Christian King, and 
you will follow the course most honourable to yourself and most 
favourable to the quiet of Christendom. 

From Abbeville. 



Francis the First to Pope Clement the Seventh. 
Paris, Jan. 10, 1531-2. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

Most Holt Father, — You are not ignorant what our 
good brother and ally the King of England demands at your 
hands. He requires that the cognizance of his marriage be 
remanded to his own realm, and that he be no further pressed 
to pursue the process at Rome. The place is inconvenient 
from its distance, and there are other good and reasonable 
objections which he assures us that he has urged upon your 
Holiuess's consideration. 

Most Holy Father, we have written several times to you, 
especially of late from St. Cloud, and afterwards from Chantilly, 
in our good brother's behalf; and we have further entreated 
you, through our ambassador residing at your Court, to put an 
end to this business as nearly according to the wishes of our 
said good brother as is compatible with the honour of Almighty 
God. We have made this request of you as well for the 
affection and close alliance which exist between ourselves and 
our brother, as for the filial love and duty with which we both 
in common regard your Holiness. 

Seeing, nevertheless, Most Holy Father, that the affair in 



NOTE B. 87 

question is still far from settlement, and knowing our good 
brother to be displeased and dissatisfied, we fear that 
some great scandal and inconvenience may arise at last 
which may cause the diminution of your Holiness's autho- 
rity. There is no longer that ready obedience to the Holy 
See in England which was offered to your predecessors ; and 
yet your Holiness persists in citing my good brother the King 
of England to plead his cause before you in Rome. Surely it 
is not without cause that he calls such treatment of him un- 
reasonable We have ourselves examined into the law in this 
matter, and we are assured that your Holiness's claim is un- 
just and contrary to the privilege of kings. Eor a sovereign to 
leave his realm and plead as a suitor in Home, is a thing wholly 
impossible,* and therefore, Holy Eather, we have thought good 
to address you once more in this matter. Bear with us, we 
entreat you. Consider our words, and recall to your memory 
what by letter and through our ministers we have urged upon 
you. Look promptly to our brother's matter, and so act that 
your Holiness may be seen to value and esteem our friendship. 
"What you do for him, or what you do against him, we shall 
take it as done to ourselves. 

Holy Eather, we will pray the Son of Grod to pardon and 
long preserve your Holiness to rule and govern our Holy 
Mother the Church. Eiusois. 



M. de la Pomeroy to Cardinal 



London, March 23, 153 1-2. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

My Lord, — I sent two letters to your lordship on the 
20th of this month. Since that day Parliament has been pro- 
rogued, and will not meet again till after Easter. 

It has been determined that the Pope's Holiness shall re- 
ceive no more annates, and the collectors' office is to be 
abolished. Everything is turning against the Holy See, but 
the King has shown no little skill ; the Lords and Commons 
have left the final decision of the question at his personal 
pleasure, and the Pope is to understand that, if he will do 
nothing for the King, the King has the means of making him 
suffer. The clergy in convocation have consented to nothing, 
nor will they, till they know the pleasure of their master the 
Holy Eather ; but the other estates being agreed, the refusal 
of the clergy is treated as of no consequence. 



* Chose beaucoup plus impossible que possible. 



88 NOTE B. 



Many other rights and privileges of the Church are 
abolished also, too numerous to mention. 



In July, 1532, Henry and Francis agreed to meet at Calais 
and Boulogne, to arrange a common policy. The conference came 
off in October. Charles the Fifth, meanwhile, having done his 
worst to Henry, the latter had no objection to attack him, 
should opportunity offer, in Flanders. The Government at 
Brussels, it will be seen, were too well informed to be caught 
off their guard. Henry took Anne Boleyn with him to 
France, and originally intended to marry her during the con- 
ference. 

to Francis the First. 



Ampthill, July 23, 1532. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

Siee, — Tour Majesty's promise to meet the King your 
brother, is in every way delightful to him. I have informed 
the Grand Master of the English proposals, but everything is 
referred to your own good pleasure. 

In the recent treaty with the Germans, Sire, the King 
your brother thinks the Princes have the advantage of you ; 
he supposes you to have undertaken to pay half their ex- 
penses : but he leaves this to be talked over with you. He 
spoke to me, as I told you a fortnight ago, of the inroad of 
the Turks. He wanted to know, I thought, whether they were 
instigated by your Majesty ; so I told him you had nothing to 
do with them — you were a friend of King John of Hungary — 
and if the Turks were acting in concert with him, all would go 
well. 

He answered at once that it was as he always thought. 
The Emperor might say what he pleased ; but you and he were 
as good Christians as the Emperor, though not perhaps as 
good Papists. 

He told me he had advices from Flanders that there were 
not a thousand soldiers left in that country — all were gone 
against the Turks. He bade me send you word, and ask, at 
the same time, how their towns were furnished. I perceived, 
Sire, from his words, that he would be ready to play a game 
there,* but his information I knew to be incorrect. . Things 
are not in the condition for such an enterprise ; so I dropped 
the subject, and left him without an answer. Sire, may God 
grant you a long and happy life. 



The words underlined are in cypher. 



NOTE B. 89 



Charles the Fifth to the Regent Mary. 
Mantua, October 16, 1532. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

I found your packets on arriving here, with, the ambas- 
sadors' letters from Trance and England. The ambassadors 
will themselves have informed you of the intended conference 
of the Kings. The results will make themselves felt ere long. 
We must be on our guard, and I highly approve of your pre- 
cautions for the protection of the frontiers. 

As to the report that the King of England means to take 
the opportunity of the meeting to marry Anne Boleyn, I 
can hardly believe that he will be so blind as to do so, or that 
the King of Erance will lend himself to the other's sen- 
suality. At all events, however, I have written to my ministers 
at Rome, and I have instructed them to lay a complaint 
before the Pope, that, while the process is yet pending, in 
contempt of the authority of the Church, the King of England 
is scandalously bringing over the said Anne with him, as if 
she were his wife. 

His Holiness and the Apostolic See will be the more in- 
clined to do us justice, and to provide as the case shall require. 

Should the King indeed venture the marriage — as I can- 
not think he will — I have desired his Holiness not only not 
to sanction such conduct openly, but not to pass it by in 
silence. I have demanded that severe and fitting sentence be 
passed at once on an act so wicked and so derogatory to the 
Apostolic See. 



Captain Thouard to M. D\jce. 
Gravelines, November 12, 1532. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

Sir, — I have been unable hitherto to send you further infor- 
mation about the conference. But this evening Captain 

has come in with news. 

The King of England did really cross with the intention of 
marrying ; but, happily for the Emperor, the ceremony is post- 
poned. Of other secrets, my informant has learned thus much. 
They have resolved to demand as the portion of the Queen of 
Erance, Artois, Tournay, and part of Burgundy. They have 
also sent two cardinals to Rome to require the Pope to relin- 
quish the tenths, which they have begun to levy for them- 
selves. If his Holiness refuse, the King of England will 
simply appropriate them throughout his dominions. Captain 
heard this from the King's proctor at Rome, who has 



90 



NOTE B. 



been with him at Calais, and from an Italian named Jeronymo, 
whom the Lady Anne has roughly handled for managing her 
business badly. She trusted that she would have been married 
in September. 

The proctor told her the Pope delayed sentence for fear of 
the Emperor. The two Kings, when they heard this, de- 
spatched the cardinals to quicken his movements ; and the 
demand for the tenths is thought to have been invented to 
frighten him. 

They are afraid that the Emperor may force his Holiness into 
giving sentence before the cardinal arrives. Jeronymo has been 
therefore sent forward by post to give him notice of their 
approach, and to require him to make no decision till they 
have spoken with him. 

Threatened on both sides, the Pope did nothing: and 
Henry, though he had consented at the conference to post- 
pone his marriage a short time longer, declined to wait 
beyond the winter, and made Anne Boleyn his wife about the 
25th of January. Parliament met in February, and as it was 
now necessary to terminate somehow the suit for the divorce, 
the Act of Appeals was passed, abolishing the Papal juris- 
diction. 

The Erench Court, in the hope of still preventing the rup- 
ture, again laid a pressure on the Pope ; while M. Chastillon, 
the ambassador in London, was instructed to implore the 
King to delay the publication of the Act. The King, it will 
be seen, was more inclined to moderation than his ministers. 
The immediate object was to induce Henry so far to recog- 
nise the Pope's authority as to send to Rome an ' Excusator ;' 
some one who would ' excuse' his presence, and show why he 
could not plead there. 

Chastillon to Montmorency. 
London, March 6, 1533. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

My Lord, — I have received your letter from Chantilly, 
dated the 24th of February, with another in cypher from M. 
de Paris, who gives me hope that the Holy Father will make 
concessions, and desires me on my part to do two things here — 
to prevent the King, if possible, from publishing the Anti- 
papal resolutions passed in Parliament, and to persuade him to 
send over an ' excusator,' to be kept in readiness in the 
hospital at Rome in entire secresy. 

I assure you, my lord, I have had enough to do. The 



NOTE B. 91 

ministers in whom the King most confides are so opposed 
to our Holy Father that they raise every imaginable diffi- 
culty. They have failed, however, and that you may better 
understand what has taken place, you must pardon a some- 
what long despatch. 

The morning after I had communicated to the King the 
hopes entertained by M. de Paris, his Majesty sent for me and 
desired me to repeat my words before the council. I obeyed; but 
the majority declared that there was nothing in them to act 
upon, and that the King must not put himself in subjection. 
His Majesty himself, too, I found less warm than in his pre- 
ceding conversation. I begged the council to be patient. 
I said everything that I could think of likely to weigh with 
the King. I promised him a sentence from our Holy Father 
declaring his first marriage null, his present marriage good 
I urged him on all grounds, public and private, to avoid a 
rupture with the Holy See. Such a sentence, I said, would 
ba the best security for the Queen, and the safest guarantee 
for the unopposed succession of her offspring. If the mar- 
riage was confirmed by the Holy Father's authority, the 
Queen's enemies would lose the only ground where they could 
make a stand. The peace of the realm was now menaced. 
The Emperor talked loudly and made large preparations. 
Let the King be allied with France, and through France with 
the Holy See, and the Emperor could do him no harm. 
Thus I said my proposals were for the benefit of the realm of 
his Majesty, and of the children who might be born to him. 
The King would act more prudently both for his own 
interest, and for the interest of his children, in securing him- 
self, than in running a risk of creating universal confusion ; 
and, besides, he owed something to the King his brother, who 
had worked so long and so hard for him. 

After some further conversation, his Majesty took me aside 
into a garden, where he told me that for himself he agreed 
in what I had said ; but he begged me to keep his confidence 
secret. He fears, I think, to appear to condescend too easily. 

He will not, however, publish the Acts of Parliament till 
he sees what is done at Rome. The vast sums of money which 
used to be sent there out of the country w T ill go no longer ; 
but in other respects he will be glad to return to good terms. 
He will send the excusator when he hears again from M. de 
Paris ; and for myself, I think, that although the whole coun- 
try is in a blaze against the Pope, yet with the good will and 
assistance of the King, the Holy Father will be reinstated in 
the greater part of his prerogatives. 



92 



NOTE E. 



For the present all goes well. May it please your lordship 
to allow M. de Morette to join me here. A second person is 
required to observe, as well as myself. 



The efforts of Chastillou and the Bishop of Paris were 
thwarted. Actions were stronger than words, and again and 
again when a hope seemed to offer itself of a reconciliation, 
either the Pope, or the King of England, or both, took some 
step which rent in pieces the efforts of diplomacy. A meet- 
ing was to take place in the coming summer between the 
Pope and Francis the First. The Duke of Orleans was to 
marry Catherine de Medici ; and Francis nattered himself 
that he could bring Clement conclusively to the Anglo-French 
alliance. Within a few days of Chastillon's conversation, 
Clement issued censures against Henry, commanding him, on 
pain of instant excommunication, to separate from Anne 
Boleyn. Henry replied with publishing the Act of Appeals, 
and closing the long question of the divorce in an English 
court. Meanwhile Chastillon was recalled, and succeeded for a 
time by D'Inteville, the ' Bailly of Troyes,' a better Catholic 
than his predecessor, and a secret confederate, as he turned 
out afterwards, of the Papal faction. 

D" Inteville to Francis the First. 
London, May, 1533. [MS. Bibliot. Impdr. Paris.] 

Sire, — The King your brother bids me tell you that you 
should, in his opinion, give notice to the Germans of this 
intended interview (with the Pope.) They may otherwise 
suspect you of meaning something to their disadvantage ; 
and fearing a change on your part towards them, they may fall 
off themselves to the Emperor. 

The English ambassador in Paris sends him word,he tells me, 
that your Majesty fears the alterations introduced by the Act of 
Appeals may retard this interview, and create fresh difficulties. 
He says that he cannot help himself. The Pope forces him 
to publish the Act by the censures which have been unjustly 
issued against him. The Pope is acting towards him neither 
as a friend nor as an impartial judge, but with an open enmity, 
against which he must defend himself as he can. 

You will hear more at length about things from the Duke 
of Norfolk ; meanwhile the King has given me the enclosed list 
of his grievances. The Archbishop of Canterbury will try 
the divorce cause, and sentence will be passed in about three 



NOTE B. 93 

days. I entreated that he would wait at least till the Holy 
Father should arrive at Nice, but he would not consent. I asked 
him to keep the sentence secret, so that the Pope might not 
hear of it till he had seen your Majesty. The King answered, 
1 Impossible ; the sentence must be published and generally 
known before the Queen's coronation, and she is to be 
crowned at Whitsuntide.' 

The Queen is enceinte. The child is to be the heir of the 
crown, and he will not leave it in the Pope's power to decide 
against its legitimacy. He says, too, that it will be more 
honourable to the Pope to accept the decision of the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, than to pass sentence himself. 



jyinteville to Cardinal Tournon, Ambassador at Borne. 
London, June 9, 1533. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

My Lord, — The King of England desires me to write to 
you in the same terms in which I have written to our Sovereign 
Lord and to the Grand Master. 

It has been declared in Rome, in full Consistory, that the 
Most Christian King intends to employ his powers against 
the Lutherans ; and that, if necessary, he will invade them in 
person. The King of England is marvellously displeased. If 
our Sovereign Lord relinquish the intelligence which has been 
commenced with the Germans, all Europe, he says, will fall into 
the hands of the Pope and the Emperor. You cannot conceive 
how angry he is. He calls the Most Christian King the worst 
adviser and the worst friend in the world. As to the inter- 
view, our Sovereign Lord, he says, is too anxious for it. If 
all were meant fairly, the Pope would be more eager than the 
Most Christian King, and the many smooth words between 
them indicate something underhand. 

I did my best to soothe him. I said that our King only 
desired the interview through his affection to his Majesty, 
and as to manoeuvres there were none unless for the marriage 
of which he had been informed long since.* But I never saw 
him so angry. The news from Rome I suppose are the cause. 
They have written to say that the Pope still makes delays, and 
will do nothing of importance — that is, will pass no sentence 
— before the interview. If the sentence, when it is given, be 
against his wishes, I doubt whether the King will find his people 



* Between the Duke of Orleans and Catherine de Medici. 



94 NOTE B. 

as obedient as they might be. He is acting prudently in attach- 
ing the nobles and the great men to himself, that the people 
when they rise may be without head or leader. If G-od please, 
things will not come to that point ; but you know the Eng- 
lish people ; when they have the will to rebel, they do not 
stay to calculate chances. 



The Pope replied to Cranmer's sentence with fresh me- 
naces. The King of France wrote to remonstrate, and on the 
17th of August Cardinal Tournon answered thus : — 

Cardinal Tournon to Francis the First. 
Rome, August 17, 1533. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

Siee, — I have delivered your message to his Holiness on the 
affair of the King of England, and I have told him how much 
you were annoyed at the step which had been taken. His 
Holiness said that he was sorry to have acted contrary to 
your wishes, but the King of England obliged, and in a 
manner drove him to it. The King of England was not con- 
tent with disregarding briefs and inhibitions, and taking a 
wife, but he had published laws in derogation of his Holiness' s 
authority and of the rights of the Holy See. The Archbishop 
of Canterbury had usurped the office of judge, and, in his 
sentence, a copy of which was read in the Consistory, he 
called himself Legatus Natus of that very See which he was 
outraging. 

In fact, Sire, as I have told you before, the cardinals would 
have been in despair of the Pope had he acted otherwise. 
But however it be, your Majesty can still do much for the 
King of England, if you can keep the Duke of Norfolk with 
you till the Pope's arrival. As I hinted in my last letter, 
little as the King of England seems inclined to undo his work 
and submit to the Holy See, the Pope will do for him with 
the utmost readiness all that can be attempted in honour. 
It may be that, when you are together, his Holiness will light 
on some expedient. 

The Pope spoke fairly, but, like a rower in a boat, his 
face was one way, his movements were another. 

He followed up his threats with censures, declaring Henry 
ipso facto excommunicate. 

Erancis again wrote in indignation to insist that the cen- 



NOTE B. 95 

sures should be suspended, and on the birth of Elizabeth in 
September, permitted his ambassador in England to attend 
the baptism. 

Cardinal Tournon to Francis the First. 
Koine, September 27, 1533. [MS. Bibliot. Impdr. Paris.] 

Sire, — Incontinently on the receipt of your letter requiring 
the suspension of the censures against the King of England, I 
waited on his Holiness and earnestly entreated his compli- 
ance. His Holiness answered that for himself he would do 
anything in his power, so great was his regard for your Ma- 
jesty ; but your demand was of a kind which he could grant 
only in Consistory, and he found that the cardinals would 
make a difficulty. I begged his Holiness, in your name, to 
do his best to persuade the said cardinals. Tour motive, I 
said, was simply the hope that the approaching interview 
might have good effects. 

At last, Sire, his Holiness consented to use his influence 
with them, and he did it so successfully that not one of them 
said a word in opposition. 

The censures, therefore, were suspended by the Consistory 
yesterday. 



The interview between the Pope and Francis the Eirst 
came off at Marseilles at the end of October. Henry was 
to have been represented there by the Duke of Norfolk ; 
but Norfolk was recalled on the first issue of the censures. 
Dr. Bonner attended in his place, but only to present an 
appeal on behalf of the King of England from the Pope to the 
next general council. The appeal was rejected ; but the Pope 
promised, that if Henry would submit to be represented by a 
proctor, and acknowledge the Pope's right to try the cause at 
Borne, he would give judgment in his favour. Henry believed, 
and perhaps rightly, that the Pope was playing him false. If 
the Pope could promise to give judgment for him, the Pope 
must have satisfied himself that his cause was just ; why then 
so many conditions and delays ? The marriage of the Duke 
of Orleans with Catherine de Medici while his own business 
remained unsettled, aggravated his suspicions. The reports 
of D'Inteville and Chastillon on the King's feelings and on 
the condition of the country become now highly curious. 



96 NOTE B. 



D"* Inteville to Montmorency 
Greenwich, November 7, 1533. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

My Lobd, — You will have seen my letter to his Majesty, 
and the report of my conversation with the King. He was 
on the way from his room to chapel to hear mass. He stopped 
as he passed me, and tried to make me believe that I had 
been instructed to tell him that the marriage of the Duke of 
Orleans should not come off until the Pope had despatched 
his business as he desired. 

I assured him that he was mistaken, that I had told him 
no such thing, nor had been directed to tell him ; and I 
offered to show him my instructions. He replied, that al- 
though I had not said it, the King had said it, and said it to 
himself ; nor was he the only witness ; for the same words 
had been used to the Queen at Calais. 

He then left me, and as he turned to the altar added, that 
if the marriage took place while nothing had been done for 
him, he would have small reason to thank the King's friend- 
ship. 

While he was at mass, I went to the Duke of Norfolk's 
room to finish my letter, for which the courier was waiting. 
I had no opportunity of speakiog with the King again after 
the service, but I had a long conversation with my Lord of 
Norfolk. 

The King, I said, was marvellously importunate with our 
master. He must be aware that our master was taking more 
pains in this business than he had taken for himself and his 
children ; and if his trouble and his expense (for the money it 
cost him was no trifle) were to be so ill acknowledged, he would 
not be very well pleased. I desired the duke and some other in- 
fluential members of the council who were present to tell the 
King what I said, and to tell him also that, if he went on 
thus he might tire out our master's patience. If they were 
true friends to the King of England, I said, they ought to be 
glad to see the Most Christian King on good terms with the 
Pope. The closest alliance which our master could form 
with the Pope's Holiness would be the best in the end for 
their master. If the Most Christian King were to act as their 
master would have him act, the Pope's Holiness would throw 
himself unreservedly on the Emperor, and their master's 
prospects would not be mended. 

I assure you, my lord, many of the council agreed in what 
I said most fully, especially the Duke of Norfolk, who did 



NOTE B. 97 

not scruple to tell me so ; but the duke said that the whole 
business had so inflamed and irritated the King their master's 
brain, that he did not trust one of them. He was himself, he said, 
one of those in whom the King had most confidence, but both 
King and Queen often held him in suspicion. Believe me, 
my lord, there are some here, and those of the greatest in the 
land, who will be indignant if the Pope confirm the sentence 
against the late Queen. There is little love for the one who 
is Queen now, or for any of her race.* My lord, I hear that 
M. Chastillon is again in England. On Sunday I shall pre- 
sent him to the King, and myself take my leave. Before I 
go, I shall speak my mind plainly to his Majesty. The lords 
of the council will hardly tell him the truth as roundly as I 
shall do. 

D'Inteville. 



Notes of the Complaints of the King of England, apparently in 

D 'Inteville 's hand. 
November, 1533. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

He complained that all Christian princes now knew the 
alliance between Prance and England to be no longer what it 
was. The division between them was everywhere notorious. 

As to the innovations which the King of France undertook 
that the King his brother should not make, the King said he 
had kept promise, and his honour was untouched. The Pope 
began by issuing censures., and by refusing to admit his reasons 
for declining to plead at Borne. 

He complained that he was required to send a proctor. 
He was told that the cause should be decided in favour of 
whichever party was thus represented ; but he said that for 
the sake of all other sovereigns, as well as himself, he would 
send no proctor, since, by so doing, he would acquiesce in the 
rejection of his excuser. The laws passed in Parliament, he 
declared, were for the welfare of the commonwealth, and he 
would not suspend them. The King of Prance had told him 
that the Pope admitted his cause to be just. The Prench 
lawyers unanimously affirmed the same, and he was therefore 
astonished that the Most Christian King should now advise 
him to let a proctor go. 

If the Pope complains of injuries which the Holy See has 



* Underlined in the original. 
H 



98 NOTE B. 

received from England, the Pope has injured England in turn, 
and has been the first to begin. The question of injuries had 
better be dropped on both sides. The King says that he demands 
no reparation, nor will he make any reparation. He asks only 
for justice ; and if he cannot obtain that justice, it is enough 
for him that he has God and right on his side, as the Pope 
has admitted. 

He complained of all this prodigious humility and kissing 
of feet, so unlike what was promised him at Calais, so unlike 
the ' want of confidence' which was then to be the rule with 
the Pope. His advice had not been followed — faith had not 
been kept with him. The marriage was not to have been 
contracted till the Pope had done justice. 

He complained of the French council, who overpersuaded 
the Most Christian King against his better judgment. They 
wished to deal with him, also, he supposed, in French fashion, 
playing with him, and entertaining him with false hopes, and 
cheating him after all. But he was not a man to be toyed 
with thus — he had known the world too long. He himself 
spoke what he meant, and he would have others speak as 
they meant. Those who would deal frankly with him, he 
would stand by with life and goods, but otherwise he would 
not ; and his friendship, he thought, was of another sort than 
the Pope's, and better worth. 

As to the interview, he had been told that * was talked 

of. He said that he could hardly believe it ; but whatever was 
done, it would be only trifling, and instead of drawing the 
friendship closer, would weaken it. He had not mentioned 
the interview before for two full months. 

Moreover, he said, that for himself his council do not govern 
him, but that he governs his council. He desires their opinions, 
but the resolution is with himself, and every King ought to 
do the same. He bade me give his best respects to our master, 
and tell him that he still hoped the Most Christian King 
would be his good brother and friend. In spite of appear- 
ances hitherto to the contrary, he would not yet give up his 
confidence. 

At the end of all this, he bade me say something. I an- 
swered that the King his brother had never ceased to exert 
himself in his behalf; that the Most Christian King, he might 
be assured, never took so much pains for himself or his chil- 
dren when in captivity. 



* Word illegible in MS. 



NOTE B. 99 

He began again, and went to the other end of the room to 
M. Chastillon, to whom he said the truth was plain enough. 
The Most Christian King, he repeated again and again, was 
no longer the friend to him which he had been. The French 
council were entangling him with their affection for the Pope. 

For his own part, he declares that he will never more ac- 
knowledge the Pope in England. He will allow him as Bishop 
of Rome, or as Pope (if he so please to be called), but he will 
concede him no more authority over himself or his subjects ; 
and he will be none the worse Christian for that, but rather 
the better. Above all things, and in all places, he will acknow- 
ledge Jesus Christ as the only Lord of Christian men. 
Christ's word, he says, shall be preached in England, and not 
the canons and decrees of Popes. He professes to have heard 
from his ambassador at the Court of the Emperor that the 
Spaniards will come and make war upon him. But he says 
he has no fear of them. They may come to England if they 
will ; they may find it not so easy to return. 

The Queen sends her regards to his Majesty, and trusts that 
he will give proofs of the affection which he has professed to 
feel for her, as she in turn will do him service as occasion 
may offer. 



Chastillon to tlie Bishop of Paris. 
Greenwich, November 17, 1533. [MS. Bibliot. Inipe'r. Paris.] 

My Lord, — M. d'Inteville returns to-morrow. I will add, 
at present, but one word on the state of things here. 

The King of England falls away every day more and more 
from the friendship which he once felt for our King. He 
supposes our King to have neglected his interests with the 
Pope, and to have shown little value for the English alliance. 

He has made up his mind to a final and complete revolt 
from the Holy See. He says that he will have the ' holy word of 
God ' preached throughout the country ; and our Lord, he 
believes, will aid him in defending his rights. 

It is a bad business, and a bad example to other princes. 
He is determined, however, and the lords about the court 
and the greater part of the people go along with him. 

May the Creator grant you a long and happy life. 
Your humble servant, 

Chastillon. 

H 2 



100 NOTE B. 

In the beginning of the ensning year, Parliament passed the 
first Act of Succession, determining the crown to the children 
of Anne Boleyn. The Pope's authority was conditionally 
abolished, with a proviso, however, that he might have three 
months to consider himself; and the Nun of Kent and her 
accomplices were attainted. Henry, at the same time, threat- 
ened to form a Protestant league, and the Bishop of Paris 
started for Rome to make one last effort to preserve the 
peace. 

But it was too late. On the 23rd of March the Pope 
gave final sentence in the divorce cause. The King of England 
was enjoined to take back Queen Catherine within four months, 
or he was declared excommunicate. His subjects were 
absolved from their allegiance : and the Imperialists undertook 
to execute the censures, invade England, and depose the 
king. 

D'Inteville to M. de Tarbes. 
October, 1534. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

My Lord, — Tou will be so good as to tell the Most Christian 
King that the Emperor's ambassador has communicated with 
the old Queen. The Emperor sends a message to her and to her 
daughter, that he will not return to Spain till he has seen 
them restored to their rights. 

The people are so much attached to the said ladies that 
they will rise in rebellion, and join any prince who will 
undertake their quarrel. Tou probably know from other 
quarters the intensity of this feeling. It is shared by all 
classes, high and low, and penetrates even into the royal 
household. 

The nation is in marvellous discontent. Every one but the 
relations of the present Queen, are indignant on the ladies' 
account. Some fear the overthrow of religion ; others fear war 
and injury to trade. Up to this time, the cloth, hides, wool, 
lead, and other merchandize of England have found markets 
in Elanders, Spain, and Italy ; now it is thought navigation 
will be so dangerous that English merchants must equip 
their ships for war if they trade to foreign countries ; and 
besides the risk of losing all to the enemy, the expense of the 
armament will swallow the profit of the voyage. In like 
manner, the Emperor's subjects and the Pope's subjects will 
not be able to trade with England. The coasts will be 
blockaded by the ships of the Emperor and his allies ; and at 
this moment men's fears are aggravated by the unseason- 
able weather throughout the summer, and the failure of the 



NOTE B. 101 

crops. There is not corn enough for half the ordinary con- 
sumption. 

The common people, foreseeing these inconveniences, are so 
violent against the Queen, that they say a thousand shameful 
things of her, and of all who have supported her in her in- 
trigues. On them is cast the odium of all the calamities 
anticipated from the war. 

When the war comes, no one doubts that the people will rebel 
as much from fear of the dangers which I have mentioned, as 
from the love which is felt for the two ladies, and especially 
for the Princess. She is so entirely beloved that, notwith- 
standing the law made at the last Parliament, and the menace 
of death contained in it, they persist in regarding her as Princess. 
No Parliament, they say, can make her anything but the King's 
daughter, born in marriage ; and so the King and every one 
else regarded her before that Parliament. 

Lately, when she was removed from Greenwich, a vast 
crowd of women, wives of citizens and others, walked before 
her at their husbands' desire, weeping and crying that not- 
withstanding all she was Princess. Some of them were sent 
to the Tower, but they would not retract. 

Things are now so critical, and the fear of war is so 
general, that many of the greatest merchants in London have 
placed themselves in communication with the Emperor's am- 
bassador, telling him, that if the Emperor will declare war, 
the English nation will join him for the love they bear the 
Princess. 

You, my lord, will remember that when you were here, it 
was said you were come to tell the King that he was excom- 
municated, and to demand the hand of the Princess for the 
Dauphin. The people were so delighted that they have never 
ceased to pray for you.* We too, when we arrived in London, 
were told that the people were praying for us. They thought 
our embassy was to the Princess. , They imagined her marriage 
with the Dauphin had been determined on by the two Kings, 
and the satisfaction was intense and universal. 

They believe that, except by this marriage, they cannot 
possibly escape war ; whereas, can it be brought about, they 



* The marriage between Mary and the Dauphin had been proposed some 
years before. It was the occasion of the doubt raised by M. de Tarbes of 
Mary's legitimacy. The reopening of the question came from the Emperor, 
who hoped to bribe Francis to join him against England, and compel 
Hem-y, by force or fear, to acquiesce. 



102 NOTE B. 

will have peace with the Emperor and all other Christian 
princes. They are now so disturbed and so desperate that, 
although at one time they would have preferred a husband for 
her from among themselves, that they might not have a foreign 
King, there now is nothing which they desire more. Unless the 
Dauphin will take her, they say she will continue disinherited ; 
or, if she come to her rights, it can only be by battle, to the 
great incommodity of the country. The Princess herself says 
publicly that the Dauphin is her husband, and that she has no 
hope but in him. I have been told this by persons who have 
heard it from her own lips. 

The Emperor's ambassador inquired, after you came, whether 
we had seen her. He said he knew she was most anxious to 
speak with us ; she thought we had permission to visit her, 
and she looked for good news. He told us, among other 
things, that she had been more strictly guarded of late, 
by the orders of the Queen that now is, who, knowing her 
feeling for the Dauphin, feared there might be some practice 
with her, or some attempt to carry her off. 

The Princess's ladies say that she calls herself the Dauphin's 
wife. A time will come, she says, when God will see that 
she has suffered pain and tribulation sufficient ; the Dauphin 
will then demand her of the King her father, and the King 
her father will not be able to refuse. 

The lady who was my informant heard, also, from the 
Princess, that her governess, and the other attendants whom 
the Queen had set to watch her, had assured her that the Dau- 
phin was married to the daughter of the Emperor ; but she, the 
Princess, had answered it was not true — the Dauphin could 
not have two wives, and they well knew that she was his wife : 
they told her that story, she said, to make her despair, and agree 
to give up her rights ; but she would never part with her 
hopes. 

You may have heard of the storm that broke out between 
her and her governess when we went to visit her little sister. 
She was carried off by force to her room, that she might not 
speak with us ; and they could neither pacify her nor keep 
her still, till the gentleman who escorted us told her he had 
the King's commands that she was not to show herself while 
we were in the house. Tou remember the message the same 
gentleman brought to you from her, and the charge which was 
given by the Queen. 

Could the King be brought to consent to the marriage, it 
would be a fair union of two realms, and to annex Britain to the 



NOTE B. 103 

crown of France would be a great honour to our Sovereign ; 
the English party desire nothing better ; the Pope will be glad 
of it ; the Pope fears that, if war break out again, Prance 
will draw closer to England on the terms which the King of 
Englaud desires ; and he may thus lose the French tribute as 
he has lost the English. He therefore will urge the Emperor 
to agree, and the Emperor will assist gladly for the love which 
he bears to his cousin. 

If the Emperor be willing, the King of England can then be 
informed; and he can be made to feel that, if he will avoid war, 
he must not refuse his consent. The King, in fact, has no wish 
to disown the Princess, and he knows well that the marriage 
with the Dauphin was once agreed on. 

Should he be unwilling, and should his wife's persuasions 
still have influence with him, he will hesitate before he will 
defy, for her sake, the King of France and the Emperor 
united. His regard for the Queen is less than it was, and di- 
minishes every day. He has a new fancy,* as you are aware. 



The Emperor entered warmly into the project for marrying 
Mary to a French prince — the Dauphin, or one of his brothers 
— and in November the Count de Nassau went to Paris to see 
what could be done. 

Charles V. to Ms Ambassador at Paris. 
November, 1534. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

In addition, the Count de Nassau and 

yourself may go further in sounding the King about the 
count's proposal — I mean for the marriage of our cousin the 
Princess of England with the Duke d' Angoulesme. The Grand 
Master, I understand, when the count spoke of it, seemed 
to enter into the suggestion, and mentioned the displeasure 
which the King of England had conceived against Anne 
Boleyn. I am therefore sincerely desirous that the proposal 
should be well considered, and you will bring it forward as you 
shall see opportunity. You will make the King and the 
Grand Master feel the importance of the connexion, the great- 
ness which it would confer on the Duke d' Angoulesme, the 
release of the English debt which can be easily arranged, and 
the assurance of the realm of France. 

Such a marriage will be, beyond comparison, more advan- 
tageous to the King, his realm, and his children, than any 

* II a des nouvelles amours. 



104 NOTE C. 

benefit for which he could hope from Milan ; while it can be 
brought about with no considerable difficulty. But be care- 
ful what you say, and how you say it. Speak alone to the 
King and alone to the Grand Master, letting neither of them 
know that you have spoken to the other. Observe carefully 
how the King is inclined, and, at all events, be secret ; so that 
if he does not like the thing, the world need not know that it 
has been thought of. 

Should it be suggested to you — as it may be — that Anne 
Boleyn may be driven desperate, and may contrive something 
against the Princess's life, we answer that we can hardly 
believe her so utterly abandoned by conscience : or, again, 
the Duke of Anjou may possibly object to the exaltation of 
his brother ; in which case we shall consent willingly to have 
our cousin marry the Duke of Anjou ; and, in that case, 
beyond the right which appertains to the Duke and Princess 
from their fathers and mothers, they and either of them 
shall have the kingdom of Denmark, and we will exert our- 
selves to compose any difficulties with our Holy Father the 
Pope. 



Note C. 

The attitude of the foreign Powers, the insurrectionary 
spirit in England, and the intrigues so largely carried on 
between the disaffected Catholics and the agents of Charles 
the Fifth, led to the Act of Supremacy. The plea for the in- 
tended rebellion against Henry was to be the Papal excom- 
munication. By the Act of Supremacy every man, on pain of 
death, was compelled to disclaim the Pope's pretence to absolve 
subjects from their allegiance, and to accept and admit the 
supreme sovereignty of the King in Church and State, Under 
this Act Fisher and More were executed. Paul the Third, 
who had succeeded Clement, invited the Catholic Powers 
to avenge their deaths and the wrongs of the Holy See. 

Paul the Third to Francis the First. 
July 26, J 535. [MS. Bibliot. Implr. Paris.] 

Dearly Beloved in Christ, — Health and our blessing. 
We committed to your Majesty the defence of the Cardinal of 
Rochester, and from your excellent goodness, and from your 
influence with Henry, King of England, we promised our- 
selves that we should speedily hear of his release. We are 



NOTE C. 105 

now shocked to learn that, after a long imprisonment, he has 
been put to death. We doubt not that, after your earnest, 
though, alas ! unavailing efforts in behalf of the said car- 
dinal, your Majesty feels deeply how atrocious is this deed. 
Tour Majesty's intercession not only failed, but seems to have 
hastened the catastrophe. But we, my son, we and this Holy 
See, what must we feel when the Church of Christ is thus 
lacerated ! Shall we mourn for his innocence and piety, his 
wisdom, his zeal for the Catholic faith, so famed throughout 
the world ? Shall we deplore the outraged dignity of a prelate 
and cardinal ? Shall we lament his cruel death — a fate befitting 
a traitor inflicted on a saint ? These things are all most 
miserable ; but saddest of all is the cause for which he died. 
He offered up his sainted life for God, for the Catholic religion, 
for justice, and truth. He persisted, not like St. Thomas of 
Canterbury, in defence of special and peculiar privileges, but 
in behalf of the whole Church ; and therefore this Henry has 
not only repeated, but far outdone, the evil deeds of his 
ancestor, both in the rank of the person slain, and in the 
weightiness of the cause. To the grievous ulcers already eat- 
ing into his soul, he has added this the last and worst. He 
has despised the censures launched upon him by our prede- 
cessor. For two whole years he has continued in insolent and 
notorious adultery, causing public scandal in the Church. He 
has sacrilegiously murdered our clergy and friars. He has 
been guilty of heresy and schism, in rending away his realm 
from obedience to the Apostolic See. And now, last of all, 
when this most excellent prelate had for his wisdom and holy 
life been promoted to the dignity of a cardinal, he first tempted 
him to deny the truth, and when he could not prevail, he 
caused the blessed saint to be put to a public and shameful 
death by the hand of the executioner. 

He slew him the more readily, because he had heard that we 
had named him cardinal. And thus, among his manifold enor- 
mities, this King has committed the crime of high treason, and 
has incurred, ipso facto, the legitimate penalty of deprivation.* 

Other enormous deeds also he has dared to perpetrate, no 
lighter than those of which we have spoken. We are not ignorant 
how, at the late conference at Calais, he tempted you, most pious 
and worthy Prince, with accursed proposals, fraught with ruin 
to the Church. He was not ashamed to assail your virtue 

* In accusing Henry of high treason, Icesce majestatis, the Pope ad- 
vanced precisely the claim which the Act of Supremacy was designed to 
meet. 



108 NOTE C. 

with his perfidious counsels, which, however, were by you de- 
servedly repelled. 

As his conduct towards you has been full of evil, so has 
yours been most excellent. Therefore for now three years, 
partly in regard for your Majesty, partly in the hope that Henry 
might repent, the Holy See has endured these iniquities at his 
hand. But her forbearance has availed nothing. Her patience 
under his crimes has rather invited fresh oppression ; and we 
are now called, as by the very voice of God and the outcries 
of mankiod, to take vengeance. With grief of mind, but 
driven by necessity, and supported by the unanimous counsel 
of the holy fathers of the Church, we now proceed to those 
measures which the cause of God and man enjoins upon us. 
This Henry, who, by rebellion, by heresy, by schism, and 
other enormous crimes, and now at last by the iniquitous 
murder of a cardinal, has rendered himself unworthy of his 
realm and dignity, we do declare deposed. Your Majesty, 
we doubt not, being a most Christian Sovereign, and most 
unlike to him in all things, holds those his deeds in abhor- 
rence ; we are assured that, mindful of God, the Church, and 
your duty, you will consider him unworthy of your alliance ; 
that you will not look on him as King, but as usurper of the 
name of King. With you, therefore, dearly beloved in Christ, 
the Holy Church seeks for that refuge, which not in vain she 
has sought with your forefathers. We cast ourselves and our 
necessities upon your piety ; and we entreat you, remembering 
how mightily in times past your ancestors avenged the wrongs 
of Holy Church, to execute our sentence upon the said Henry, 
when by ourselves you shall be invited to take arms. 

Thus much we commit to letter, the bearer of which, our 
nuncio, will confer with your Majesty at greater length on 
our behalf. To his words we refer ourselves ; and to your 
Majesty's protection we commend the dignity of the Apostolic 
See and the honour of Almighty God. 

Given at Rome, under the Fisherman's ring, July 26, 1535, 
the year of our Pontificate I. 



Eustace Chajppuys to Chancellor Granvelle. 
[Decyphered Copy.] 
London, November 21, 1535. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

Sir, — Considering my duty, the desire of the person you 
know of, and the importance of the cause, I suppose I ought 



NOTE C. 107 

not to have made any fresh demand in the affairs of the good 
ladies. The King is so blinded, and so given over to a repro- 
bate sense, that we may look to see God permit him to entangle 
himself deeper and deeper in the devil's labyrinth. He will 
make himself more and more abominable in the sight of man- 
kind, and thus come to utter ruin and destruction. He talks 
of providing a number of harquebusses, but they will not save 
him, and he must look for them in some other place than 
Flanders : but the intention means something ; he wishes pro- 
bably to awe his subjects into quiet, and prepare against 
foreign invasion. 

Sir, Master Cromwell, of whose origin and antecedents 
your Secretary Antoine tells me you desire to be informed, is 
the son of a poor blacksmith, who lived in a small village four 
miles from this place, and is buried in a common grave in the 
parish churchyard. His uncle, the father of a cousin whom 
he has since enriched, was cook to the late Archbishop of 
Canterbury. The said Cromwell, in his youth, was an ill-condi- 
tioned scapegrace. For some offence he was thrown into prison, 
and was obliged afterwards to leave the country. He went to 
Flanders, and thence to Rome and other places in Italy. 
Returning after a time to England, he married the daughter of 
a wool-comber, and lived in his father-in-law's house, carrying 
on the business. Afterwards he was a law-pleader, and thus 
became known to the Cardinal of York, who, perceiving his 
talents and industry, and finding him ready at all things, evil or 
good, took him into his service, and employed him in the demoli- 
tion of five or six religious houses. On the cardinal's down- 
fall Cromwell acquitted himself towards him with marked 
fidelity, and afterwards fell under the displeasure of Sir John 
Wallop, now ambassador in France, who threatened him with 
violence. 

Not knowing how else to defend himself, Cromwell con- 
trived with presents and entreaties to obtain an audience of 
the King, whom he undertook to make the richest sovereign 
that ever reigned in England. He promised so fairly that 
the King at once retained him upon the council, although his 
promotion was for several months kept a secret from the 
rest. Since that time he has risen above every one, except it 
be the lady, and the world says he has more credit with his 
master than ever the cardinal had. The cardinal shared his 
influence with the Duke of Suffolk and several others. Now 
there is not a person who does anything except Cromwell. 
The Chancellor is only his tool ; and although he has, so far, 



108 NOTE C. 

refused to take the Great Seal himself, people say he will be 
persuaded to catch at it before long. 

He can speak his own language remarkably well, and Latin, 
French, and Italian tolerably. For the rest, he is a person of 
good cheer, gracious in words and generous in actions ; his 
equipage and his palace are magnificent. My servant can tell 
you more if you wish for further information. 

Sir, the person mentioned in my letter to his Majesty, 
has told me that the King, speaking to some one four or 
five days ago of the Princess, said that he would soon 
provide for her in such a way that she should need neither 
household nor company, and she should serve as an example 
to show the world that no one should disobey the law. 
He said that there was a prophecy about him that at 
the beginning of his reign he would be gentle as a lamb, 
and at the end worse than a lion ; and he would prove the 
prophet true. The person I speak of, feels so uncertain what 
he may do, that he has sent to beg me not to put off the 
ladies any more with smooth words. He will himself, he told me, 
give them notice to look to themselves, and warn them they 
had better send immediately to the Emperor's Majesty. 



On the 7th of January, 1536, Queen Catherine died, and 
Mary's chief anxiety was then to escape from England, as a 
preface to the Emperor's intended declaration of war. 

Chappuys to Charles the Fifth. 
Feb. 10, 1536. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

Sire, — Yesterday arrived the personage sent by M. de 
Rceulx to examine the plans for the enterprise, and to 
instruct me in the order to be taken. I fear, for the reasons 
which I stated in my last letter to your Majesty, the oppor- 
tunity is gone. I have not, however, as yet received the answer 
of the person whom the affair concerns, and as that answer shall 
be, we will act to the best of our ability. Tour Majesty shall 
have notice in time. 



Chappuys to Charles the Fifth. 
Feb. 17, 1536. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

Sire, — In my letter of the 10th I informed your Majesty of 
the arrival of the person despatched by M.deBoeulx,and I forth- 
with sent notice to the Princess by her confidential servant. 
The servant returned yesterday with an answer, that I 



NOTE C. 109 

need not keep her informed in detail of the plans for 
carrying her off; she left the whole arrangemenb to my dis- 
cretion, having entire confidence in me, and I was to settle 
everything ; she herself would be in readiness to leave the 
house, and this she thought she could do if we would provide 
her with a sleeping draught for the women who were placed 
about her ; she would have to pass the window of her gover- 
ness ; but once outside the house she could find means to 
unlock or break open the door of the garden. 

Sire, her anxiety to escape from her present unhappy situa- 
tion is so great that I think if I told her to go to sea in a 
sieve she would do it, and this makes me fear that her eager- 
ness blinds her to the difficulties of the enterprise. "When 
the experiment is tried, those difficulties will be found more 
considerable than she anticipates, and she has no person of 
experience to advise her. If the house in which they 
have placed her be really so easy to leave, they may have 
purposely laid the temptation in her way, that they may have 
an excuse for treating her more harshly. She believes that 
there is no guard ; but a guard there may be, notwithstand- 
ing, without her knowledge, as there was last year at 
Greenwich. 

Sire, her present residence is for many reasons less con- 
venient than the house where she was before. It is fifteen 
miles further from G-ravesend, and at Grravesend M. de Rceulx 
says that she must embark, the mariners not caring to ven- 
ture further up the river. She would have forty miles to ride, 
which she could not accomplish without relays of horses, and do 
what we would, I think she could not escape being detected and 
overtaken. The town adjoining is full of men and horses, and 
there are towns and villages along the road where she might 
easily be discovered and stopped. 

Doubtless, could she be brought below G-ravesend as the 
captain desires, the rest would then be easy ; but the difficulty 
is the distance she must ride. If she embark near London, 
there will be danger on the passage down before she can be 
brought clear of the river. The captain says, among other 
excuses, that the scrutiny is so close that he cannot venture to 
bring any men with him below deck. There is no real ob- 
stacle here, however ; the men might be dispersed in other 
vessels and landed at Grravesend, where they could rejoin him. 
The Princess thinks, and I learn the same thing elsewhere, 
that about Easter she will be removed again, perhaps to the 
old house, or it may be even nearer. 



110 NOTE C. 

Nevertheless, Sire, ardently as the Princess longs to escape 
from her trouble, she would deem it far better and far safer that 
something should be undertaken of a larger kind, and a general 
remedy be devised for the service of God, for the salvation of 
the unnumbered souls which are now going the way to perdi- 
tion, and for the repose and tranquillity of Christendom. 
Supposing her carried off, which will not be without difficulty 
and hazard, the question will not be settled. She says herseif 
that stronger measures may be required, and the victory 
perhaps, after all, might then be less easy to achieve. The King 
is now off his guard ; the realm is undefended, and he scarcely 
thinks of making preparations. Her escape might drive him 
to despair, and with the help of his money he might do many 
things. 

For my own part, I think if the Princess were once in your 
Majesty's hands, the King would drop his bravado, and would not 
kick against the pricks. The Princess at any rate never ceases 
to entreat me to implore your Majesty to take up the matter 
promptly and swiftly ; events move too slowly for her ; 
and when the time comes she is prepared for death. She 
wishes me to despatch a messenger expressly to solicit your 
Majesty ; in fact, she would have had the late Queen's physi- 
cian go, were he willing to leave England. But I urged that 
in doing so she would show some distrust of your Majesty's 
good will ; I assured her that the opportunity was watched 
for with the utmost vigilance, and I satisfied her that I ought 
not to send. I persuaded the physician to stay where he was, 
by telling him that the Princess might require his help, and 
could trust no one but himself. The King sent him to attend 
upon her. I spoke myself about it after the Queen's death ; 
and the King gave permission that he should have access to 
her apartments at all times and seasons. 

Keport says, Sire, that a number of the old servants of the 
Queen her mother are to be transferred to the Princess's 
household, especially the head groom of the chamber, who is 
to hold the same office. Should this turn out true, there will 
be far less difficulty in carrying her off ; the groom of the 
chamber being a man of ability — as fit a person for such a 
business as could be found anywhere. If only she return to 
her old house at Easter, so much the better, also. The time 
will be more convenient. The King at that season is usually 
at a distance, and the sea will be less dangerous. 

Should it be determined finally to make the attempt, it will 
not be for your Majesty's honour that I should remain here ; 



NOTE C. Ill 

for all the world will not be able to persuade the King that I 
was not the contriver and promoter of the business, and things 
might, perhaps, go hard with me. He has a large opinion of 
his own greatness, and he would like to show that he neither 
fears nor regards man ; his concubine hates me because I 
have always told him the truth, and opposed his accursed 
obstinacy ; and, as soon as the preparations are complete, I 
had better hasten off, with two or three of my people, to make 
a tour in Flanders. As I am known to have communicated 
with M. de Koeulx's servant, it is next to impossible that he 
should not discover my hand ; if he find me out, he will 
certainly destroy me ; while my going away may, perhaps, 
divert their attention. 

Tour Majesty will let me know your pleasure, and I will 
forthwith obey you. I will only beseech your Majesty not to 
impute what I have written to a want of will or courage. I 
am ever ready to die in your Majesty's service. 



The Emperor, when Chappuys's letter reached him, was no 
longer in a condition to respond to Mary's expectations. In the 
midst of his designs upon England he was overtaken by a 
rupture with Erance ; and, instead of encouraging the Princess 
to escape, and defying her father, he made the death of 
Catherine an excuse for burying the quarrel, he sent to 
Henry to court his alliance, and requested him to forget the 
differences of the last few years. 

Instructions to D'Inteville and De Tarbes. 
April 29, 1536. [MS. Bibliot. Impdr. Paris.] 

Since the departure of M. d'Inteville for England, the 
Most Christian King has received a letter from M. de Tarbes, 
dated the 19th of this month. He has therefore drawn these 
present instructions to serve alike for the Bishop and for 
M. d'Inteville, and to advertise them what they shall say to 
the King of England on the Most Christian King's behalf. 
And first : — 

M. de Tarbes has informed the King of tbe arrival of a 
courier from the Emperor at the English Court, of the causes 
which induced the King of England to grant him an audience, 
of the language used towards him, on his arrival, by the Duke 
of Norfolk, and of the assurances given to M. de Tarbes, that 
whatever overtures the Emperor might make to the King of 



112 NOTE C. 

England, the present relations between Trance and England 
would remain unaffected. 

This last declaration has given the Most Christian King 
unfeigned pleasure. 

In like manner, M. de Tarbes informs the King of the 
annoyance expressed by the King of England at the non- 
arrival of the person whom the Most Christian King was to 
send over, with the answer thereto made by M. de Tarbes ; 
which answer the Most Christian King thought so good that 
it did not need another word. 

M. de Tarbes states, that in his letter to the King of Eng- 
land, the Emperor brings forward five points. In the order 
in which these points are arranged by the bishop — 

The first declares that the Emperor was about to enter 
Home. 

The second relates to the invasion of Savoy by the King of 
Erance. The Emperor requests the King of England to 
intercede with the King of Erance for the restoration of the 
Duke of Savoy's dominions. 

In the third, the Emperor expresses a fear that the Most 
Christian King will make war upon him for the Duchy of 
Milan ; and, in that event, requests assistance from the King 
of England. 

In the fourth, the Emperor desires the King of England 
to consent to forget what has passed between them on account 
of his late aunt. The occasion having ceased to exist, the 
Emperor hopes that the King of England will put away his 
suspicion and resentment, and will return to the old terms of 
cordial friendship and alliance. 

In the last, the Emperor says he is about to send an army 
against the Turks, and he invites the King of England to co- 
operate with him against the enemy of the Christian faith. 

On all these points the King of England has explained 
himself to the Bishop of Tarbes and to M. d'Inteville. His 
Majesty is especially pleased with the sage and prudent 
answer given by the King of England to the Emperor touch- 
ing the Duchy of Savoy. The said bishop and M. d'Inteville 
are to thank the King warmly on his Majesty's behalf, and 
to thank him also for so graciously communicating to 
them the contents of the Emperor's letter. 

His Majesty has been made to entertain the greatest possible 
confidence in the King of England's regard and affection. 



The insurrection so long threatened broke out at last in 



NOTE C. 113 

October, l53 / 5 ; but, unfortunately for the prospects of the 
insurgents, at a time when the state of the Continent no longer 
permitted the Emperor to assist or countenance them. An 
emissary of the Flemish Court, in sending an account of the 
first successes of the rebels, in vain pointed out that the 
opportunity which had been waited for was come. 

to her Majesty the Queen Regent. 

London, October, 1536. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

Most noble Ladt, — I am instructed to inform your 
Majesty that on Monday, the 2nd of this present October, 
in the northern counties in the diocese of Lincoln, the King's 
officers and commissioners were proceeding with the demoli- 
tion of four abbeys, when certain peasants, by G-od's will, com- 
menced a riot under the conduct of a brave shoemaker named 
William King.* The chief commissioner, Doctor Lee, who was 
especially obnoxious to the people, as the summoner who cited 
the late Queen your aunt, now in glory, before the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, contrived to escape ; but his cook was 
taken, and, as a beginning, the people hanged him. A gentle- 
man belonging to the Lord Privy Seal, otherwise called 
Master Cromwell, tried to stop them ; and he too was im- 
mediately laid hands on, wrapped in the hide of a newly-killed 
calf, and worried and devoured by dogs ; the mob swearing 
they would do as much for his master. 

The people went next to the house of the Bishop of Lincoln, 
whom they could not find ; but they caught his chancellor, and 
to spite the bishop, who is said to have been the first person to 
advise the King to divorce your aunt, they killed him. 

The next day being Tuesday, there were more than ten 
thousand of them in arms ; and they proceeded to take the 
gentlemen of the neighbourhood, and swear them to be true 
to their cause. The cobbler assumed a cloak of crimson 
velvet, with the words embroidered in large letters upon it, 

TOR GOD, THE KING, AND THE COMMONWEALTH. 

Some of the gentlemen who had been sworn escaped and gave 
notice to the King, and on Wednesday, at nine in the 
morning, an order came out that all the gentlemen in London 
should place themselves under the command of Eichard Crom- 
well. The Lord Mayor undertook to provide horses, and 



* Nicholas Melton was the name of the man who was called Captain 
Cobbler. 



114 NOTE C. 

went In person from stable to stable, borrowing on all sides 
from natives and foreigners alike. To appease the complaints 
which began to be heard, it was given out that the horses 
were required for the Count of Nassau, who, they pretended, 
had come over with a train of men as ambassador, and had 
nothing to mount them on. On Saturday the number of in- 
surgents had risen to fifty thousand, and there were said to be 
as many as ten thousand priests among them, who never 
ceased to stir them on to their work, and to tell them what 
great things they would achieve. The same day Lord 
Clinton's retinue joined them ; Lord Clinton himself (it was he 
who married the Duke of Eichmond's mother) had to fly with a 
single servant ; and many other gentlemen were forced to fly 
also, who intended to have done service for the King. 

"When these news reached London, the King called a 
council ; and immediately after the meeting, the Dukes of 
Norfolk and Suffolk, and the other lords, dispersed in dif- 
ferent directions, as it was said, to prevent the insurrection 
from spreading. The admiral and Sir Francis Brian went 
down to Ampthill, and collected about ten thousand men out 
of Northamptonshire and the counties adjoining. On Sunday 
the King was said to be going to Ampthill also, and the 
royal standard was expected to be displayed. Sunday after- 
noon I saw thirty-four of the falconets which the King has been 
making during the last year leave the Tower of London. There 
was no shot or powder, however, that I could see, and they 
were badly provided with artillerymen. The next day, w r hen 
they were drawn out of the City, the horses were found so bad, 
that, for want of better, thirteen of the guns went but a mile, 
and then returned to the Tower ; while the remainder were 
taken but a small distance. 

Men are hired, as many as can be obtained, in Kent and 
elsewhere ; but the chances are that when in face of the enemy 
they will turn their coats, and join the rebels in their good 
quarrel. Those who have risen say they will live like their 
forefathers ; they will maintain the abbeys and the churches, 
and pay no more imposts and subsidies. They demand the 
repayment of the sums which they have been forced to contri- 
bute already, especially the great loan exacted from them 
in the cardinal's time ; and, finally, they will have sur- 
rendered into their hands the wool-comber (by whom they 
mean Cromwell), the tavern-keeper (which is their name for 
the Archbishop of Canterbury), and divers other bishops and 
lords of the council. 



NOTE C. 115 

It was reported in London on Monday that the Earl of 
Northumberland's brother had joined the Commons with 
thirty thousand men. He wanted lately to be declared the 
earl's heir ; the King made difficulties, and he now means to 
be revenged. It was also said that a number of other lords 
and great men had been forced to join, by a threat that they 
should have their houses pillaged ; this has been done already 
with the houses of those who, after taking the oath, have de- 
serted to the King. A priest and a shoemaker were stated to 
have been hanged the same morning for merely saying it was 
a pity to collect an army to put down such poor people. The 
King declared that they cared more for a set of rascals than 
for him. 

Thursday morning a knight went down to the coast to 
fetch off the workmen employed by the King. The town of 
Sandwich also has provided sixty poorly furnished men-at- 
arms. The frontiers are now unprotected, and a landing can 
be easily effected. Even the French tailors in London are 
pressed to serve. They give them harquebusses and two 
groats a-day, making four ducats the month, for their pay, 
with a groat to drink for every five miles* they march. The 
Flemish shoemakers are made to go on the same terms. To 
the English they give but sixpence a-day, with the same drink 
money as they allow the French. 

Madame, it appears to the person who has been sent to me 
by your Majesty, that it is good fishing in troubled waters ; 
and that now, in these disturbances, there is an opportunity 
such as there has not been these hundred years, to take 
vengeance upon the schismatic for the wrongs which he has 
done with his Erench alliances to his Majesty the Emperor, 
for the injuries of your late aunt, his lawful wife, and for the 
iniquitous treatment of his patient daughter the Princess. A 
portion of the army now in readiness in Zealand would suffice 
to restore the Princess to her place and rank. Two thousand 
harquebuss men (it is of those that the need is greatest) 
should be landed at the mouth of the river which runs from 
York. 



* Cinque milles, which, however, is incredible. The strongest ale then 
made was twopence a gallon, and to drink two gallons every five miles 
would have been beyond mortal capacity. The letter from which I tran- 
scribe is a copy, so that there is room to suppose a mistake. 'Cinque,' I 
think, should be cinquante, and for ' five ' we should read fifty. 



i2 



116 NOTE D. 



Note D. 



to — 



London, May 16, 1536. [MS. Archives at Brussels.*] 

Lord Eochfort, brother of the wicked Queen Anne Boleyn, 
has been beheaded with an axe on a scaffold in front of the 
Tower. 

The said lord made a good Catholic address to the people. 
He said that he had not come there to preach to them, but 
rather to serve as a mirror and an example. He acknowledged 
the crimes which he had committed against God, and against 
the King his sovereign ; there was no occasion for him, he said, 
to repeat the cause for which he was condemned ; they would 
have little pleasure in hearing him tell it. He prayed God, 
and he prayed the King, to pardon his offences ; and all others 
whom he might have injured he also prayed to forgive him as 
heartily as he forgave every one. He bade his hearers avoid 
the vanities of the world, and the flatteries of the Court which 
had brought him to the shameful end which had overtaken 
him. Had he obeyed the lessons of that Gospel which he had 
so often read, he said he should not have fallen so far ; it 
was worth more to be a good doer than a good reader. Finally, 
he forgave those who had adjudged him to die, and he desired 
them to pray God for his soul. 

After Lord Eochfort came Mr. Norris, first gentleman of 
the bedchamber to the King ; next to him "Weston and 
Brereton, gentlemen of the bedchamber also ; and then Mark 
the musician. These four said nothing except to pray for 
God's and the King's forgiveness, and to bid us pray for their 
souls. Brereton and Mark were afterwards quartered. 

The wicked Queen herself suffered last on a scaffold within 
the Tower, the gates being open. She was led up by the 
lieutenant, feeble and half-stupified [elle etoit foible et 
etonnee], and she looked back from time to time at four 
of her ladies by whom she was attended. On reaching 
the platform she prayed to be allowed to say something to 
the people. She would not speak a word, she said, which 
was not good. The lieutenant gave permission, and, raising 
her eyes to heaven, she begged God and the King to forgive 
her offences, and she bade the people pray God to protect 
the King, for he was a good, kind, gracious, and loving Prince. 

This done, they removed an ermine cloak which she had on, 



* Partially printed by Gachard, Analectts Jlistoriques. 



NOTE E. 117 

and she herself took off her head-dress, which was in the 
English fashion. One of her attendants gave her a cap into 
which she gathered her hair. She then knelt ; a lady bonnd 
her eyes, and incontinently the executioner did his office. 
When the head fell, a white handkerchief was thrown over it, 
and one of the four ladies took it up and carried it away. The 
other three lifted the body, and bore it with the head into the 
adjoining chapel in the Tower. 

It is said that she was condemned to be burnt alive, bat the 
King commuted the sentence into decapitation. 



Extract from a Letter of tlie Regent Mary to Ferdinand of 

Austria. 
May 23, 1536. [MS. Archives at Brussels.*] 

The English, I think, will not give us much trouble, espe- 
cially now that we are quit of that damsel who was so good a 
Frenchwoman. You have no doubt heard that she has been 
beheaded, and in order that vengeance should fall on her from 
the subjects of his Majesty the Emperor, the King sent for the 
headsman from St. Omer's to do the work. There was no 
one in England skilful enough. 

The King has, I understand, already married another woman, 
who, they say, is a good Imperialist. I knownot whether she will 
so continue. He had shown an inclination for her before the 
other's death ; and as neither that other herself, nor any of the 
rest who were put to death, confessed their guilt, except one 
who was a musician, some people think he invented the charge 
to get rid of her. However it be, no great wrong can have 
been done to the woman herself. She is known to have been 
a worthless person. It has been her character for a long time. 

I suppose, if one may speak so lightly of such things, that 
when he is tired of his new wife he will find some occasion 
to quit himself of her also. Our sex will not be too well 
satisfied if these practices come into vogue ; and, though I have 
no fancy to expose myself to danger, yet, being a woman, I 
will pray with the rest that God will have mercy on us. 



Note E. 

After Jane Seymour's death, both Charles and Erancis 
affected an anxiety to secure the vacant hand of Henry. The 

* Printed by Gachard, Analectes Bistoriqms. 



118 NOTE E. 

Imperial candidate was the Duchess of Milan. Among the 
many ladies at the French Court whose names were mentioned 
to him, Henry's fancy inclined to the only one whom he 
could not obtain, the Duchesse de Longueville. TheDuchesse 
de Longueville, or Mary of Guise, had engaged herself to 
James of Scotland. M. de Chastillon, the ambassador in Eng- 
land, was occupied in endeavouring to persuade the King to 
content himself with one of her sisters, or with a daughter of 
the house of Lorraine or of Vendosme. The King, who had, 
perhaps, seen her, would have accepted the Duchesse de 
Longueville upon the spot. Chastillon's correspondence 
relates his efforts, at once fruitless and grotesque, to induce 
Henry to select either of the others. The King said he 
would not choose a wife in the dark, or act in such a busi- 
ness on another man's judgment. The young ladies must be 
sent to Calais, and he would go over and see them. 

The French Court were anxious to keep him from the 
Duchess of Milan ; and yet they could not consent to trot out 
their Princesses, as Montmorency said, like horses at a fair. 
If the King chose none, they would be all made ridiculous ; 
and whether he made a choice or not, to send them to Calais 
on such an errand was disrespectful and discourteous. Chas- 
tillon's last letter on the subject will serve as a specimen of 
the rest. 

Chastillon to Francis the First. 
August 12, 1538. [MS. Bibliot. Impdr. Paris.] 

Siee, — On Wednesday, the 9th of this month, I received 
the letter which you were pleased to write to me from Villa 
Franca, and I have laid before the King your brother the letter 
which preceded it, dated from Yienne the 28th of July. 

I already knew from M. de Lassigny the terms on which 
you stood with the Emperor ; and I had therefore anticipated 
the instructions with which you have now favoured me. I 
entreat your pardon if I have listened too readily to things 
told me here. I am not, I assure you, too well inclined to 
give credence to English rumours ; but they were so positive 
in their story, and it tallied so nearly with my information 
from other quarters, that not having then heard from 
yourself, I may hope for your forgiveness. Dismiss me from 
your service if, in future, I let them use such language to me. 

Sire, my last conversation with the King your brother 
followed on the delivery of your letter. I wished to keep him 
in as good a humour as I could, and without asking favours of 



NOTE E. 119 

liim, I Lave somewhat improved his spirits. He has not been 
easy since he heard from De Lassigny that yon were 
certainly friends with the Emperor, and he liked still less 
De Lassigny's going to Scotland. I have assured him, how- 
ever, that notwithstanding the cordial friendship now esta- 
blished between your Majesty and the Emperor, he would 
always find you as well disposed to him as in times past. Tour 
Majesty, I said, hoped that on his side he would be the same 
to you ; and if you could be of any service to him with any- 
thing in your realm, you would be at his command. 

' Well, well, ' said he, ' but the King sends no message 
about the marriage.' 

' Saving your presence, Sire,' said I, ' he writes that he does 
not think it honourable, as I have always told you, to send the 
young ladies to Calais. Send yourself some person or persons 
whom you can trust, and act on their report.' 

1 Par Dieu] he replied, ' I will trust no one but myself; 
marriage touches a man too nearly. I will have them sing to 
me a few times before I settle.' 

With a half smile I answered, ' Your Majesty would, 
perhaps, like to try them all, one after the other, and keep 
the one that suits you best. It was not thus, Sire, that the 
Knights of the Round Table treated their ladies in old times 
in this country.' 

I think I made him ashamed; he laughed and coloured ; and 
you will see at the end of my letter that he perceived he had 
been wanting in courtesy. 

Eubbing his nose a little, he said, 

' But since the King my brother is on such good terms 
with the Emperor, what, after all, will become of his alliance 
with me ? I ask, because I am resolved not to marry at 
either Court, unless the Emperor, or the King my brother, 
prefer my alliance to that which they have made with one 
another.' 

' By our Lady, Sire,' replied I, ' your question demands 
a wiser man than I am to answer it. Do you think if 
you marry the Duchess of Milan, the Emperor will prefer you 
to the King my master ?' 

' Yes, to be sure,' said he ; 'I am certain of it.' 
' Would you like me to tell the King my master this ?' said I. 
' Par Dieu, yes,' said he ; ' for it is true.' 
' Sire,' I said, ' I have no commission to answer such ques- 
tions. You must tell your ambassador at my master's Court 
to ask the King.' 



120 NOTE E. 

1 Far Dieu^ he replied,' I will do nothing of the kind till 
I have Doctor Bonner there for ambassador. The others 
have been led astray by "Wyatt ; they are not honest, and I 
am ill pleased with them.' 

' Indeed, Sire,' said I, ' the Bishop of Winchester and 
Sir Francis Brian will have no pleasant time over there. 
Complaints have been made to me very unlike yours. I do not 
know what has been the matter, but they have behaved ill to us.' 

The King then begged me to write to you to learn your 
intentions, and to let him know. 

Wishing him to see that he was of no great consequence to 
your Majesty, I replied, 

' Sire, I will speak to you frankly and openly. I am of 
opinion that you press too hard upon the King your brother. 
Tor the last ten years, as you are aware, he has never been at 
war but by his own choice : and, since he is willing to 
remain on the same friendly terms with you as before his 
agreement with the Emperor, I would advise you to accept 
his offers. He is a great and powerful sovereign, and the 
relations in which you stand with him are of no small moment 
to you. The King of Scots is as much at his beck as if he 
were his son ; the King of Denmark is devoted to him ; and 
France, Scotland, and Denmark are your near neighbours. If 
my master break with you, the other two will break also, and of 
what will happen you are a better judge than I. Secure his 
friendship if you will be guided by me, and do not look too 
closely into niceties.' 

I went no further, being without instructions from your 
Majesty. Had there been time, I should have urged him to 
relinquish the pension, but this can be done hereafter if you 
please to direct me. I spoke as I did to put him out 
of conceit with his notion of a preferential alliance, on which 
he seemed inclined to insist ; and also to make him feel that 
without looking to find five feet upon a sheep, your friend- 
ship was of as much consequence to him as his could be to 
your Majesty. I mixed some bitter with the sweet, because 
he never forgets his own greatness and thinks so little of 
others. 

Shaking his head, and as it were thinking aloud, he an- 
swered, ' Far JDieu, I have good subjects, and a good trench 
about me' \_fai de bonnes hommes et de bonnes fossez.~] 

Then he added, that since you, Sire, were unwilling to let 
the ladies come to Calais, he would ask you to fix upon some 
place — the chateau of Madame de Yendosme, for instance, or 



NOTE F. 121 

any other house not far from Calais. No one need know the 
cause of the visit. The Duke of Gruise might go with them 
as if on business of State, while he would himself send persons 
of equal rank with the duke to see them. 

This time he said nothing about preference. Tou will un- 
derstand, Sire, the terms on which T parted from him. I 
cannot tell whether he will do as the King of Scots did, and 
go in person to see for a wife. He certainly said he would 
trust no opinion but his own, and two or three times he 
begged that the place selected might be near Calais. More- 
over, I do not know who in this country, except himself, is the 
equal in rank of the Duke of Gruise. However, this is but 
guessing. At all events, unless he change his mind, he will 
send the most considerable persons to be found in the realm. 

May it please you, Sire, to let me hear what further an- 
swers I shall give the King. The ladies that he means are 
Mademoiselles de Yendosme, de Lorraine, and de Gruise. The 
younger of the two Mademoiselles de Gruise has been much 
spoken of here, and in my opinion she it is that he will prefer. 
He thinks highly of the birth and breeding of the Gruise 
family. 



Note F. 

The author of the Dialogue goes beyond his knowledge in 
his account of the divorce of Anne of Cleves. She was very 
far from beautiful ; the King's distaste for her was from the 
first emphatic ; and the marriage did not go beyond the 
ceremony. 

Thomas, perhaps, never saw Anne, and may have seen instead 
Holbein's portrait, the instrument by which the King was 
deceived. He may have judged of Henry's regard from the 
splendid settlement which was made upon the Queen on the 
separation, and from the easy terms on which they afterwards 
continued. The real story was of a kind which could not 
be communicated to the world. 

The history of the connexion, so unfortunate in itself, so scan- 
dalous in its consequences, is related in a series of letters from 
Marillac, Chastillon's successor as resident and minister in 
England. The reconciliation between Charles and Francis in 
the summer of 1538 was followed by an energetic effort on 
the part of the Pope to enlist them in a joint crusade against 



122 NOTE F. 

England. Eeginald Pole was sent to Spain to work on the Em- 
peror ; and his brother with Lord Montague, and the Marquis 
of Exeter, prepared to move at home as soon as war should be 
declared. The domestic treason was discovered, and the 
conspirators were executed : but preparations on a large 
scale were commenced in Elanders. After Lord Exeter's 
execution, Chastillon suddenly demanded his passports, and 
left the country. Eustace Chappuys, the Flemish ambas- 
sador, followed his example ; and through February, March, 
and April, nothing was looked for in England but immediate 
invasion. Eorts and bulwarks were thrown up along the 
coast. The musters were called out ; the beacons were 
trimmed ; the highways swarmed with armed men ; and every 
morning was expected to reveal an enemy's flotilla at anchor in 
the Downs. 

The promptitude of the King, the unexpected acquiescence 
of the country in Lord Exeter's death, and perhaps some differ- 
ence at the last moment between the Emperor and the French 
King, arrested the action of the Catholic coalition. Chas- 
tillon 5 s departure was explained away, and at the end of March 
M. Marillac was sent over to take his place. The internal 
condition of England on his arrival ; the subsequent endea- 
vours of Cromwell to oppose a Protestant league to the 
Catholic ; the marriage with Anne of Cleves, intended as an 
indissoluble link between England and Germany, and proving 
in the end a most fatal cause of disunion ; the desperate mea- 
sures to which Cromwell's failure drove him, and his final 
arrest and fall, together form the subject of a correspondence 
too interesting to be mutilated. 

Marillac to the Constable. 
April 3, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Imp^r. Paris.] 

My Loed, — I sent you word from Boulogne of the causes 
which had delayed my departure. The weather when I sailed 
was so wild that I was two days and a half at sea, and it was 
not till the 28th of last month that I reached London. The 
council were absent, and the King made me wait three days 
before I could be admitted to an audience to present my 
letters. 

The King, my lord, is in marvellous distrust as well of the 
King our master, as of the Emperor. He is confident that 
they intend to declare war against him ; and he is therefore 
taking measures with the utmost haste for the defence of the 
realm. He foresees that if attacked at all, he will be attacked 



NOTE F. 123 

in force, and he is calling under arms the whole strength of 
the realm. As I passed through Dover I saw new ramparts 
and bulwarks on the rocks which face the sea. They had all 
been made since the return of M. de Chastillon, and were 
well furnished with artillery, large and small. No landing at 
Dover could be attempted now with a prospect of success. 

In Canterbury, and the other towns upon the road, I found 
every English subject in arms who was capable of serving. 
Boys of seventeen or eighteen have been called out, without 
exemption of place or person. The inhabitants of London are 
formed into a corps by themselves for the protection of the 
City. French subjects residing here for trade have not been 
spared ; they too have been required to serve, whether they 
desire it or no. Some have answered bravely that they 
would not bear arms against their natural Sovereign. Others, 
taken unawares, have yielded through timidity. 

On the road I met a body of men. I was told there were 
six thousand of them, going as a garrison to Sandwich. As I 
approached the City I saw the King's ships and galleys all 
armed and ready to sail. A multitude of private vessels were 
fitting at their side with all speed ; and when this flotilla goes 
to sea, and unites with the five-and-twenty or thirty ships 
at Portsmouth, the whole force will amount to a hundred and 
fifty sail. 

Merchants' traffic outward or inward is interdicted. Every 
vessel is under arrest, and no one is allowed to leave the realm. 
English subjects abroad have received orders to return, and 
are most of them by this time at home. Artillery and ammu- 
nition pass out incessantly from the Tower, and are despatched 
to all points on the coast where a landing is likely to be 
attempted. In short, my lord, they have made such progress 
that an invading force will not find them unprovided. They 
are prepared on all sides to the very extent of their ability, 
and the great lords are at their posts as if the enemy were 
already at their doors. 

The cause of the excitement, my lord, is a conviction 
on the part of their King that the Emperor, the Pope, and 
our master, are in a league to destroy him and his realm. The 
King told me himself that he knew from the best authority 
that the Most Christian King was concerting measures with 
the Emperor to fall upon him. Your secretary, my lord, he 
said, was waiting in Spain to bring you the Emperor's latest in- 
structions. M. de Chastillon' s sudden departure gave a show 
of reason to the alarm. The Emperor's ambassador demanded 



124 NOTE F. 

his passports directly after, and went away without speak- 
ing of a successor ; and where before there was little doubt 
that mischief was meant, the uncertainty was then at an end. 
They looked for nothing but immediate hostilities. 

At this moment there is especial agitation on account of 
the appearance of sixty sail of Flemings, said to be on their 
way to Spain for the expedition to Algiers. People here 
do not believe that Algiers is their real destination. They 
are vessels of large burden, unsuited to the Levant, and 
the impression is that they are transports. Fifty or sixty 
more have been discovered by scouts in the harbours of Zealand, 
and report says that they have ten thousand men on board 
them. 

These things have placed the King upon his mettle. He 
has sent troops northward, for he looks to be invaded over the 
Scottish Border. But his preparations are defensive merely, 
not aggressive. He will never choose such a time as the 
present to meddle with his neighbours of his own will, or to 
seize and fortify any second Calais on the French coast. As 
matters stand, his great anxiety is to be on friendly terms 
with our master, for never was our master's friendship of more 
importance to him. 

My lord, when I was at Boulogne I heard that the Dean 
of Cambray was to be Flemish ambassador, and that he 
had arrived at Calais. He reached London two days after 
me. I have not seen him because he has not yet had audience 
of the King, but I shall not fail to visit him immediately on 
his reception. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
April 15, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

At this moment there are not less than from eighty to a 
hundred ships of war ready for action. The musters of London 
will be reviewed on St. George's day, and the King is expected 
to be present. The expense, so far, of the fortifications, arms, 
ships, etc., must amount to two hundred thousand crowns at least. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
April 15, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Impdr. Paris.] 

My Lord, — They are mustering, drilling, and fortifying their 
exposed frontiers in all directions. They think of nothing 



NOTE F. 125 

else. The Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, with the other great 
lords, are away in their counties, providing for the public 
safety. My lord, no invading force could show itself with- 
out the whole nation being warned, and every man will be 
ready to march wherever danger threatens. Most of the ships 
have already sailed. Those which remain are chiefly the 
property of private persons, English or foreign ; but there are 
very few of them which are not in fighting order. Lord Crom- 
well has ten thousand men twenty-five miles off; and next 
Friday, St. Greorge's day, will be the review in London. 
There will be from fifty to sixty thousand men, perhaps, for 
not a man who can bear arms is excused. The foreigners 
resident have received orders to provide weapons and to appear 
in the City livery. Indeed, my lord, they are thoroughly pre- 
pared ; and on the sea, although they have now but a hundred 
or a hundred and twenty ships, they say they will shortly 
have a hundred and fifty. Considering the time they have 
been at work, they have not done badly. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
May i, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Impdr. Paris.] 

My Lord, — You will understand by my letter to the King 
the satisfaction with which his despatch was received here. 
The whole Court seems to have received good news. Men's 
faces are all altered for the better ; and, if one may judge their 
feelings by their outward demonstrations, I should think they 
are satisfied that for this year, at least, they will be let alone. 
Our King's letter and yours, as I am told, have been read 
out in Parliament. In return for my good news, they give 
me a better reception, and, great and small, caress me with all 
their might. The King himself talked to me for two long hours, 
and I perceived by his words that for the present they are 
out of alarm. 

My lord, I must not omit to tell you that the King 
is again showing an inclination for the Germans. The 
Duke of Saxe's chancellor, with a deputation from some of 
the other States, has just arrived. Some say the King's 
daughter is to be married to the Duke of Saxe's son ; others, 
that they are coming to an agreement in religion at last. 
Nothing certain can be known till it is seen how things will 
go in Parliament, and to the proceedings there, my lord, I 



126 NOTE F. 

shall attend closely, and send you information at length.* The 
fortifications and the other preparations for war continue, but 
they are doing their work more soberly, and at their leisure. 
The great review in London has gone off. Such a spectacle 
was never seen here before. 



The Constable of France to Marillac. 
May 13, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

Lord Cromwell demands the release of the Bibles printed 
here in the English vulgar tongue. 

I imagine that before you left Paris you were made 
acquainted with the answer which we have given to the 
reiterated demands of the English minister. The King has 
been informed that there are many errors in the translation, 
and he will not countenance the issue of it. What is good can 
be printed in England as well as in Erance ; what is false his 
Majesty will not allow to be printed here. He will lend no 
colour nor authority to the publishers to put out bad things. 
This is our answer. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
May 20, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

Siee, — The Government continue to throw up works where- 
ever an enemy can land, though they are going on more 
slowly. They have made up their fleet to a hundred and 
twenty sail, which will carry ten thousand men. The whole 
nation, as I have already told your Majesty, is under arms. 
At the late review in London I counted about fifteen thousand 
English, without reckoning foreigners. They were in white 
uniform from head to foot, and ten thousand of them were 
well found in all points. 

The Parliament, Sire, is in full session ; but as yet we cannot 
say certainly what will be done. They have been busy so far 
in finding money to meet the cost of the defences. There has 
been some difficulty about the abbeys. A party here wish 
to apply the monastic estates to the foundation of new 
bishopricks, educational colleges, and hospitals for the poor. 
Objections have been taken, too, touching the prosecution of 
the ladies who are prisoners -in the Tower — the wife of the 



* Parliament met on the 27th of April. 



NOTE P. 127 

Marquis of Exeter the King's cousin, and the mother of Car- 
dinal Pole, who is also one of his relations. Their sentence, 
however, is daily expected, and from present appearances it 
will go hard with them. 



JKarillac to the Constable. 
May 20, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. ImpeY. Paris.] 

My Loud, — After the reply which you were pleased to 
make to Lord Cromwell's request for the release of the Bibles, 
they have said no more to me about th# matter ; and I have 
not myself cared to reopen it. If Lord Cromwell demands 
a further answer, I shall reply in the words of his Majesty's 
council to the English ambassador. 

The Parliament, I am told, is likely to separate without 
having arrived at a resolution on some points, and it will 
reassemble in September. Sentence of death, however, will 
probably be passed against the ladies of whom I spoke in my 
letter to the King, and against a gentleman and a chaplain of 
the late marquis's household. In three or four days they will 
be brought from the Tower to "Westminster to be condemned. 
This is a serious matter. I have not thought well to write 
more fully to the King about it until I could tell him the 
exact truth ; but persons who profess to know assure me 
that it is as I have said ; and unless the King pardon them, 
so the event will prove. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
June 9, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. ImpeV. Paris.] 

Sire, — Your Majesty desires to be informed of everything 
which passes in this country. At present I have nothing to 
add to my late letters unless it be that, whereas a few days 
since it was thought that Parliament would rise at Whitsun- 
tide and be prorogued till September, the King, immediately 
after the holidays, said it must sit on till St. John's day, and 
finish the business which had been taken in hand. Several points, 
therefore, points especially affecting religion, have now been 
brought to a conclusion. The bishops have had a grand 
struggle. Part desired to maintain the mass complete, part 
to make a new service. The majority were with the conser- 
vatives, who have carried the day. The King, as the leader of 
this party, said all which ought to have been said. He main- 



128 NOTE F. 

4 

tained that the Holy Sacrament ought to be believed and 
adored, and to be honoured with the ceremonies observed in 
the church from immemorial time. Evil speaking, therefore, 
against the sacrament is prohibited under pain of death ; and 
priests, to the great displeasure of the ambassador of Saxe, 
are forbidden to marry — so angry was he that he went off two 
days since in the worst imaginable humour. 

The appropriation of the abbey lands and the fate of the 
ladies in the Tower, will be disposed of before Parliament 
now separates. The ladies are the mother of Cardinal Pole, 
and the wife of the late Marquis of Exeter. The two Houses 
have attainted them of high treason, and according to the 
custom of the country, their goods are confiscated and their 
lives are at the King's mercy. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
June 9, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Imp^r. Paris.] 

My Lord, — Parliament, you will see by my letter to the 
Kicg, is to last till St. John's. The reason, I suppose, is the 
news from the Levant, and the talked-of council. There is 
as much excitement about the latter as if it were already a 
settled thing. 

Leave was given to the lords and gentlemen before Whit- 
suntide to return to their estates ; but now the King insists 
on their remaining in session. 

The King's declaration about the sacrament has given wide 
pleasure and satisfaction. The people in general are inclined 
to the old religion, and only a few bishops support the new 
opinions. These bishops are in a bad humour. They wanted 
leave for the clergy to take wives, and they cannot get it. 
They desired to make church preferment hereditary, and to 
convert the benefices into family estates. The gentlemen 
from Germany did their best to forward the business of 
priests' marriages, and they are sadly disturbed at their failure. 
Nor is this their only ground of annoyance. They wanted 
the King to subsidize them. He refused distinctly, and they 
now experience what others have found before them, that an 
Englishman's purse-strings are not easily opened. Thus 
they are gone off in high dudgeon, and they leave the council 
equally disgusted with them. 

My lord, I need not enlarge on the naval preparations 
here : there are eighty ships at Portsmouth ready to sail, and 



NOTE F. 129 

they carry guns of heavier calibre than any hitherto in use at 
sea. This may be because the light guns are a]l exhausted ; 
there are not half-a-dozen of any kind remaining in the 
Tower ; seven or eight vessels have been purchased lately from 
the Venetians and Florentines, the smallest of which is from 
four to five hundred tons ; but even in ships so large as these, 
the large artillery is dangerous. 

So, too, guns are in continual demand for the coast bat- 
teries, although for the present year the alarm has passed over. 

The King, unlike himself, is in good spirits. For some 
vears past he has been melancholy, and has avoided society. 
Now he forces himself to join in the current amusements. 
Every evening he goes on the Thames with musicians and 
singers. He takespleasurein paintings and embroideries; he has 
sent to France, Flanders, and Italy for the most accomplished 
masters in music and other elegant arts ; and those who are 
about him think it is a sign that he would marry could he 
find a lady to please him. 

The Emperor's ambassador is treated with marvellous 
civility, and, strange to say, the Queen Regent has allowed the 
English agent to buy three thousand harquebusses in Flanders 
for the King's service. She has even gone so far as to tell 
them, that if they desire they may have as many more. They 
are astonished themselves at her condescension. 

There has been a funeral service for the late Empress, and 
all the great men attended ; the two dukes, the lord admiral, 
the Lord Cromwell, and other noblemen, with fifteen or 
twenty bishops. The mourning will last a fortnight. My 
attendance was requested by the King and the Spanish ambas- 
sador, so that I could not decline. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
June 20, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Imp^r. Paris.] 

For the rest, my lord, may it please you to under- 
stand that the day before yesterday there was a grand pas- 
time on the Thames in the King's presence. The affair was 
stupid enough. There were two galleys, one of which carried 
the royal arms, the other the arms of the Pope, with a number 
of cardinals' hats. The galleys encountered and fought a 
good while, at last the royal galley had the victory, and Pope, 
cardinals, and arms, were all thrown into the water. The 
object was to give the people confidence in the King, and to 
teach them not to be afraid of the Holy Father and his friends. 

K 



130 NOTE E. 

More and more cannon are founded, and as soon as Parlia- 
ment rises the King is going on progress two or three hun- 
dred miles to survey the works. 



Mar iliac to Francis the First. 
July 13, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. ImpeV. Paris] 

Sike, — The King is all kindness. He speaks in the warmest 
terms of your Majesty, and I see no trace of unpleasant feel- 
ing. So little is he inclined to meddle with your Majesty 
that he is far more afraid of losing your support ; and the dis- 
missal of the musters to their homes is sufficient proof that 
he has no sinister intentions. The foreign ships are restored 
to their owners ; the ports are opened ; the merchants are 
free to go and come ; the dukes and lords who were in 
London for the Parliament are gone to their own estates ; 
the King is left with scarcely a hundred horse in his train. 
All these symptoms convince me, Sire, under your correction, 
that the fleet, the fortresses, and the cannon are merely for 
defence ; and if there were nothing else, the state of feeling 
about religion is far too critical to allow the King to trifle 
with the situation. He has been forced to arrest many 
changes which were in progress before this last Parliament. 
To satisfy the country, and to silence the Christian Powers, 
he has restored all the old opinions and constitutions, save 
the authority of the See of Kome and the orders of monks 
and nuns ; while two bishops who were the chief promoters of 
the new opinions have been deprived of their sees, and if they 
will save their lives they must make the best of the time of 
grace which is allowed them and relinquish their errors. 
Under these circumstances the King will surely keep on terms 
with his allies ; he will think more of defending the country 
from attack than of rushing into unprovoked quarrels ; and 
he will never seek a war with one of the strongest countries 
in the world. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
July 13, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Imp 6r. Paris.] 

My Lokd, — The King complained in Parliament that the 
Pope was urging the Emperor and the King of Prance to 
attack England on thepretence that the people were heretics 
and infidels. He said that the belief of the countrv must be 



NOTE F. 131 

defined, that Christian princes might see the untruth of the 
Holy Father's accusation. 

At the same time, he said, he was ready to meet his Holi- 
ness in the field, if necessary, with all his friends. He trusted 
his subjects would grant him money for the defence of English 
liberty, and as an example and warning, he demanded justice 
against those who had plotted treason at home. 

England, however, will not seek a quarrel with Erance. It 
is true, my lord, that the common people when they had 
arms in their hands, said, that if the Erench came over to at- 
tack them they would go themselves to Erance. But these 
were the vain words of ignorant persons who are our here- 
ditary enemies. To ascertain the King's real views, I spoke 
the other day to Lord Cromwell about the Anglo-Erench 
alliance. He told me, among other strange things, that the 
Pope and the Emperor had worked hard to incite his master 
against ours on the ground of the pension : but his Majesty, 
he said, would not listen to them. As he had begun the sub- 
ject I went on with it ; and said I was told that the King 
would go to war about the pension, and that Parliament had 
agreed to it. Lord Cromwell assured me that such a thing 
had never been so much as thought of. 



ILarillao to the Constable. 

August 12, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

My Lokd, — I have been more dilatory in writing than you 
may have expected. The King suddenly left the neighbour- 
hood of London, and came off into Hampshire, sixty miles 
away. 

Eeing so near Portsmouth and Southampton, I took the 
opportunity of examining the vessels and works with my own 
eyes. 

Of the fleet lately at Spithead, there remain not more 
than seven or eight ships in commission, and one large and 
beautiful galleon. The rest have gone round into the Thames 
to disembark their armaments. The newly-made fortifications 
are of great extent, and would serve for a time to protect the 
place effectively. They are not, however, very durable, having 
been run up in a hurry, and consisting of double lines of stakes 
filled in with earth. The King continues his progress, and 
will return to London to meet Parliament at Michaelmas. 

k2 



132 NOTE F. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
October 25, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. ImpeY Paris.] 

Sire, — I learn from your letter of the 1 2th, written at Com- 
piegne, that your Majesty wishes to know about the proposed 
marriage between the King and the sister of the Duke of 
Cleves. 

I have taken the utmost pains to learn the terms of it ; 
but things are kept so secret that for the present I cannot 
ascertain anything. The King, however, is satisfied, and 
says openly that he is pleased with the alliance. He will 
now, he maintains, complete the long-desired league with the 
Princes of Germany ; he will first gain the Duke of Saxe, 
who has married another sister of the same house ; the Duke 
of Saxe will bring with him the confederation ; and the King 
will find them the means of providing so large an army that 
no one will venture to meddle with them. 

As to religion, his Highness thinks that, with the joint in- 
fluence of himself and the Duke of Cleves, he can soften down 
the asperities which are now distracting Germany, and find 
some honourable middle course by which the troubles there 
may be composed. 

Further, his Highness having but one son, desires to marry 
for the sake of children, and he considers that he can do 
no better than take this lady, who is of convenient age, sound 
health, and fair stature, with many other graces which his 
Majesty says that she possesses. He has failed to find a wife 
for himself in France or Spain; and next to your alliance, Sire, 
or the Emperor's, he considers a connexion with the House of 
Cleves the best that he can make, especially at this moment, 
when so many novelties menace the principles of religion, and 
the German princes show themselves so prompt to defend 
the doctrines which they were the first to introduce. 

News have arrived within the last few days from Flanders, 
that people there complain that the King ought to have 
married the Duchess of Milan. The Lady Anne was to have 
come to England by Calais ; but to prevent mischance they talk 
now of sending for her to the Ealtic. Some people say that 
she will be here in a few days ; others, not without show of 
reason, maintain that she will not be in England till Christ- 
mas. Anyhow, they are preparing a splendid reception for 
her, and in London there will be an especial demonstration, so 
many advantages are anticipated from the connexion. 



NOTE F. 133 

Marillac to the Constable. 
October 25, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

My Lord, — In my letter of the 14th I told you that the 
new Queen might be looked for very shortly. I have since 
learnt that she cannot arrive as soon as was expected. We 
hear from Elanders that the ambassadors of Cleves, who con- 
cluded the marriage, returned from Calais to their own 
country in disguise, and that, since their departure, there has 
been a great outburst of indignation in Flanders itself. The 
King, they exclaim, is engaged to the Duchess of Milan, and 
if he will not keep his word as a man of honour, he shall be 
compelled to keep it. At all events, they say he shall never 
have this lady to whom he is now devoting himself. 

The report is a strange one, and, in itself, not very credible ; 
but it has troubled those who are easily alarmed, and the 
council sits at extraordinary hours to devise precautions 
against accident. So at least I am told. The truth is hard to 
come at ; but they are certainly disturbed about something. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
December 24, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

My Lord, — The new Queen of England arrived at Calais 
two days ago, and waits a favourable wind to cross. Eor some 
time past it has been blowing hard from the westward, and 
the gale still continues so violent that it is thought she can- 
not be here for a week at soonest. 

Rumour gives the King's eldest daughter to the young 
Duke of Bavaria, who, as I informed his Majesty, has come 
over to this country. I see no great likelihood of the truth 
of the report, except it be that they will probably marry the 
young lady to a Prince of no great power, for fear of the pre- 
tence to the crown, which may be advanced hereafter in her 
name. 

The King is at Greenwich, waiting the arrival of his bride. 
He proposes to meet her two miles out upon the road ; and I 
and the Emperor's ambassador will be invited, probably, to 
attend. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
December 27, 1539. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

My Lord, — Since I wrote to you on the 24th, I have 
learnt that the story, the probability of which I doubted, is 



134 NOTE F. 

true. The Lady Mary is really to be married to the Duke 
of Bavaria. He was taken a few days ago, as secretly 
as possible, to . the gardens at "Westminster Abbey. The 
lady was brought there to meet him, and the Duke gave 
her a kiss, a thing never done in England by any but near 
relations unless it means marriage. Since the death of the 
Marquis of Exeter there has been no man in Eugland of 
sufficient rank to kiss the Lady Mary. 

The Duke talked to her at length, partly in broken Grerman, 
partly in Latin, which she can speak tolerably well. He told 
her at last, that the King would let him marry her if she did 
not find his person displeasing, while she, on her part, replied 
that her father's pleasure was her own. 

"When the marriage will come off, I am unable to tell you. 
People say, however, that it will take place soon ; and, from 
what I hear, I expect it will be in a fortnight, or three weeks 
at latest. Others think it will be even soouer. The King's 
nuptials will be celebrated immediately on the lady's arrival, 
and they say father and daughter will be married on the same 
dav. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
December 30. [MS. Bibliot. Impdr. Paris.] 

My Loed, — M. de Noyon has come to England in disguise. 
He has been detected ; and his presence in such a condition 
has roused suspicions, in which the Government concur, that 
his coming has been for something else than amusement. The 
season of the year, so unsuited for travelling, the rank of the 
person, whom they know to be both a bishop and a peer of 
Erance, with the few servants who were found in his company, 
have combined to persuade them that he had some secret 
practice in hand either in Scotland, or with the Church 
party in England. 

Had I not used my best skill and played them a trick 
their misgivings would not have been easily removed. I took 
care, however, neither to see the bishop nor to speak with 
him till he had been with the King, that they might not think 
I had put his story into his mouth ; and in this way I have 
satisfied them that he came over on his own account merely. 
To stop the world's mouth, I have insisted that he shall im- 
mediately return, and he has made no difficulty. He is as 
disgusted at having been discovered, as I am at his having 



NOTE F. 135 

come at all. People were never in a more suspicious humour 
than at this moment. 

The affair has turned out better than might have been ex- 
pected. The King was gracious enough, and talked pleasantly 
to him about the King his brother. This, however, does not 
prevent others from using their tongues, and talking spitefully 
of the French. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
Jan. 5, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

Siee, — On Friday, the second of this month, notice was 
given by the public crier that the Lady Anne of Cleves 
was coming to Greenwich, and that the King's liege subjects 
were expected to be present to receive her. I and the Em- 
peror's ambassador had an invitation in the King's name ; 
and the concourse of people, which was large and imposing, 
went off without disorder or confusion. Five or six thousand 
horse, with the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, were in attend- 
ance on the lady. The King and his household, and five 
thousand more, rode out from Greenwich to meet her. 

She was in a Flemish costume. The King received 
her with all politeness, and conducted her to the palace, 
where a splendid suite of rooms was prepared for her. 
Her age one would guess at about thirty. She is tall and 
thin, and not particularly pretty. Her countenance shows 
assurance and resolution. She has twelve or fifteen ladies 
with her, all dressed as strangely as herself; and in her train 
is the ambassador of Saxe also, who, people say, is. come to 
conclude the so-often-commenced treaty between his master 
and the King. Henceforward they say the King and the 
German league are to be at one, and will share each other's 
fortunes for good and ill. The truth will be known in the 
next Parliament, which meets in Lent. A round sum of 
money has to be demanded ; and the King supposes, and the 
council say, that he may have a million crowns without dis- 
tressing his subjects. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
Jan. 5, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imp^r. Paris.] 

People who have seen the lady close 

say that she is neither as young as was expected, nor as pretty 
as she was reported to be. She is tall, and her face and carriage 



136 NOTE F. 

have a force in them which shows she is not without mind. 
The spirit and sense will perhaps supply the deficiency of 
beauty. 

The twelve or fifteen ladies she has brought with her are 
even less good-looking than their mistress ; and they are 
dressed so hideously that, if they were beauties, they would 
look detestable. 

The King met her at the bottom of the hill, two miles from 
Greenwich. Including her own retinue, she had five or six 
thousand horse with her. I would describe the procession, 
had you not yourself seen many such here. The English wore 
no ornaments but massive gold chains ; and for general 
splendour there were twenty scenes more striking in France 
during the late passage of the Emperor.* 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
Jan. 28, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

Sire, — The German ambassadors went a week ago. Duke 
Philip of Bavaria, after being made a Knight of the Garter, 
started yesterday with a present of five or six thousand 
crowns from the King. His marriage, I am told, is finally 
settled, and he will return shortly. 

They were in a panic here while the Emperor was in 
Erance. Since he went they have recovered their spirits. 
The German league is perhaps succeeding to their satisfaction, 
or they are on better terms with the Emperor again. I shall 
know more in a few days. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
Feb. 2, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe"r. Paris.] 

My Lord, — My cousin will have informed you of the 
general course of events here. As to the league between 
Erance and England, the council have more than once felt their 
way towards it with me, and the King himself touched the 
subject in a word or two. There is nothing they are more 
anxious about than to remain on good terms with us. They 
know the advantage which they derive from our King's support, 



* In December and January, 1539- 1 540, Charles Y. crossed France 
from Spain to the Low Countries. His reception at Pai'is was supposed to 
have a political meaning most unfavourable to England. 



NOTE F. 137 

and tlie injury which they might sustain if they lost it. Their 
public policy had two mainstays, and both have failed them. 
They anticipate the utmost mischief from the good under- 
standing between our master and the Emperor, and their 
alarm is increased by the report that peace is probable between 
the Emperor, the Turks, and the Venetians. They expected 
our master, the Turks, and the Emperor, to be so busy with 
one another, as to have no leisure to meddle with them ; and 
now, unless there be truth in the rumour that the Emperor 
means to recover Grueldres, they consider themselves quite 
certain to be attacked. 

If the Grueldres affair goes forward, they will perhaps sub- 
sidize the Duke of Cleves and the princes of the League, so as 
to divert the war from this country, and keep it as far distant 
from them as possible, till they can make terms with the 
Emperor, and settle their own concerns. 

At the same time, my lord, I am sure that they will court 
France as long as they know the Emperor to be ill disposed 
towards them. And when they talk to me of the King's 
friendship, if I do my master no good by listening graciously 
to them, at least I am doing no harm. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
Feb. 16, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imp&r. Paris.] 

Siee, — I informed the King of the indecent and insolent 
behaviour of the English ambassador, and I requested his 
Highness on your behalf, and in the words which you were 
pleased to command, to recall the said ambassador at his 
earliest convenience, and to send some one in his place who 
would discharge the office more properly. The King and 
council were most courteous. After many gracious expres- 
sions of regret, the King promised, as a proof of his desire to 
preserve your Majesty's friendship, that an order should be 
sent to the ambassador, by the bearer of this present letter, 
commanding him to return immediately. Sir John Wallop, 
the G-overnor of Calais, will receive instructions to take his 
place. 

His Highness, however, while consenting to the recall, de- 
sired that I would ask your Majesty to show some tokens of 
forgiveness to the said ambassador ; and when he should pre- 
sent himself to take leave, he hoped you would speak less 
harshly to him than his fault had merited. He said he would 



138 NOTE F. 

gladly spare an old servant, who had done good work in times 
past, and might do good work again when better instructed 
in his duty, the ignominy of a public dismissal. The ambas- 
sador holds a high office in the Church also, being Bishop of 
the Metropolitan See of London. 



MariUac to the Constable. 
March 7, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

My Lobd, — In default of matters of greater importance, I 
may tell you of an occurrence of which more may be heard 
hereafter. 

A controversy about religion has broken out between the 
Bishop of Winchester, and the late ambassador in France the 
Bishop of London, on one side, and on the other a doctor 
named Barnes, a noted preacher of German opinions. The 
dispute began thus : — On a Sunday at the beginning of Lent, 
the Bishop of Winchester preached a sermon at Paul's Cross, 
in which he discussed and refuted these opinions like a man 
of learning. This Doctor Barnes was unable to endure. A 
few days after, although it was not his turn to preach, he found 
means to take the place of the proper person, and from the 
same pulpit contradicted what the bishop had said. He 
spoke with much heat and ill temper ; and, at length, he 
flung his glove among the crowd in defiance of his adver- 
sary, saying, he would maintain his doctrines against him to 
the death. 

The King, when informed of what had passed, was much 
troubled and scandalized. His Highness and council will sit 
as judges, and the bishop and doctor are to dispute before 
them. They are to produce their sermons in writing, and 
whichever is proved to be in the wrong will be punished as 
his oifence shall deserve. 



MariUac to the Constable. 
March 26, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

Mi Lord, — Nothing worth noticing has happened since 
my last letter. They seem chiefly anxious to avoid war, and 
to be on good terms with France. 

Lord Cromwell says that the differences between the Em- 
peror and the Duke of Cleves are on the point of arrange- 



NOTE F. 



139 



ment. He perhaps likes to think so. Englishmen are always 
glad of excuses to escape finding their friends in money. 

The appointment of the Pope's nephew as legate at the 
Imperial Court is talked of. It is thought he will bring the 
excommunication with him, and try again to form a coalition 
against England. 

They protest that in all points but the Papal supremacy 
and the religious orders, their creed is identical with ours ; 
but they think the Turks will leave Christian Powers no 
leisure to make war on one another, and they feel little 
anxiety. 

They talk of the approach of their usual season of amuse- 
ments after Easter. The Queen's coronation will be at Whit- 
suntide. 



Mar iliac to Francis the First. 
April 10, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

Stee, — Since the return of the Duke of Norfolk from 
France, nothing of moment has happened here. The King 
only gives constant proofs of his desire to be on good terms 
with your Majesty. 

He is not exactly afraid that you will desert him ; yet his 
confidence is not so strong but that he has moments of mis- 
giving. He dreads to lose your support, from the greatness 
of his anxiety to retain it. 

Eor other matters, Sire, you may remember that last year 
there was an Act of Parliament bringing religion into con- 
formity with Catholic doctrine. The See of Rome and the 
institution of monks were the sole points on which differences 
were left remaining ; and as to the monks, there is not one in 
all England who is not now dressed as a secular priest. But 
in matters of doctrine the orders then taken have been ill 
observed. The statute has been infringed by the Anabaptists 
and the Grermanizers. There have been outbreaks in Calais and 
Southampton, and, in defiance of the King's injunctions, meat 
has been eaten in Lent, and sermons openly preached against 
abstinence. 

Commissioners have gone to the two towns to punish the 
rioters, and since Easter three doctors have been committed to 
the Tower as the authors of the new opinions. Of these, the most 
considerable is Doctor Barnes, who has lately returned from 
Germany, and has published more than one heretical book. 



140 NOTE F. 

The same Doctor Barnes (it shows what a fool the man is) 
possessed himself irregularly one day in Lent of the pulpit at 
St. Paul's, and broke into outrageous abuse of the Bishop of 
Winchester, who had preached there the Sunday before. Such 
a proceeding was likely to lead to a breach of the peace. 
The King, therefore, sharply reprimanded the doctor, sent 
him to beg the bishop's pardon, and ordered him afterwards 
to preach another sermon, withdrawing his errors, and 
apologizing for his conduct. He obeyed, but in a manner 
which showed he was acting merely in constrained obedience 
to the King. He is therefore now in the Tower, with two of 
his accomplices : and ten or twelve London citizens and fifteen 
or twenty foreigners have been arrested with him. The 
latter are chiefly Flemish Anabaptists. 

The trials will soon come forward — in the next session of 
Parliament at latest, which begins the 20th of this month. 

There will be a fresh Act of B-eligion. This subject fills all 
men's minds, and nothing else is talked of, unless it be the 
return of the Duke of Bavaria to complete his marriage with 
the Lady Mary, and the intended jousts at the Queen's 
coronation. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
April 14, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

Duke Philip is soon looked for. I am assured 

more positively than ever that the marriage is to come oiF. 
The Duke is to have but 40,000 crowns with the Lady Mary, 
or 9000Z. sterling — payable, too, in three years. Moreover, 
she is held illegitimate. 

You are perhaps aware that the wife of the late marquis 
who was beheaded has been liberated from the Tower. Her 
son remains there, and the nephew and mother of Cardinal 
Pole. The latter, however, will, it is said, be soon released ; 
the boys will most likely remain where they are, to prevent 
trouble to the succession. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
April 24, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

I have this important news for you since I last wrote. 

The Lord Cromwell has been appointed Earl of Essex and Grand 
Chamberlain of England. He is now in as high favour with 



NOTE F. 141 

iris master as ever he was ; "but lie Las been nearly shaken from 
his place by the Bishop of Winchester and the rest. 

Four hundred harquebuss men have been levied for Ireland. 
The majority of those who were sent last year have been killed 
by the insurgents. 



Mar iliac to the Constable. 
May 8, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imp£r. Paris.] 

Mv Lokd, — Erom my conversation with the King and his 
ministers, I should gather that each of them have a part al- 
lotted them to play one after the other. 

Lord Cromwell, to whom I went on some police business, 
began with telling me of the singular affection of his master 
for the most Christian King. He said that, like others, he 
had once been more Imperialist than Trench ; but he had 
ascertained that the Emperor, while he amused the world with 
fair words, was designing, when opportunity offered, to make 
himself sole monarch of Christendom. He had opened his 
eyes, and English statesmen, he said, thought now only of 
extinguishing a fire which else would burn up the world, 

The day after the King spoke to me His 

language was far more sober, and without the passion of his 
ministers. Either he thought moderation more dignified, or 
he has more prudence in keeping his thoughts to himself. 

After him the Duke of Norfolk took up the tale respecting 
what had been said by Lord Cromwell, and the Duke of Suf- 
folk and the rest followed in the same strain. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
May 21, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. ImpeY. Paris.] 

My Loed, — I was with the King a few days since at 
Greenwich. I had to attend divine service there, as usual, at 
"Whitsuntide, and I wanted information on a variety of matters 
of which I am about to speak. 

The Parliament, my lord, was to have ended before the 
holidays. The work was done. The King's subsidy was 
granted — two shillings in the pound, payable in three years. 
The Knights of St. John are to surrender their white crosses. 
Their lands go to the crown ; and the two grants together will 
yield, it is expected, above three million crowns. All, in short, 
which was demanded had been acceded to without opposition, 



142 NOTE F. 

and the Houses would have broken up had it not been for diffi- 
culties with religion where the bishops have been unable to 
come to an agreement. In the way they go on they would 
make things worse rather than better, were it not that the 
King keeps them in some sort of order. He hears their ar- 
guments and listens to their opinions ; but the determination 
will be with himself; and the ministers assure me that a book 
will soon appear, with the sanction of Parliament, where every 
man may learn what he is to believe, and doubtful points will 
be decided neither by German views nor Papal views, but by 
the authority of the early Christian Church. 

The Duke of Saxe and the league have lately sent over the 
articles on which they have themselves agreed, and they ex- 
pect to see them accepted in England ; but I feel pretty sure 
that they will find themselves mistaken. People say the 
articles are full of heresies. 

My lord, the day before yesterday, at ten o'clock at night, 
the Deputy of Calais, the King's uncle, was brought prisoner 
to the Tower. To-day one of his chaplains has been arrested 
also. I do not know the reason. The world say the deputy 
was in correspondence with Cardinal Pole, and that there was 
some practice for the betrayal of Calais. Ten or twelve Calais 
pensioners are charged with having spoken treasonable words ; 
and I learn from a credible quarter that a great personage, I 
know not who, is about to be arrested also. Anything passes 
for high treason here now. Men are laid hold of day after 
day for the most opposite reasons. A person named Lee, who 
has been ten or twelve years abroad, is in the Tower for having 
communicated with Pole. Others have been seized for eating 
meat in Lent — others for not observing Easter. They are 
busy with their fleet again. Twenty or thirty ships are gone 
to the coast of Scotland to watch the movements of the 
Erench, who are said to be in communication with tbe Irish 
rebels. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
June I, 1 540. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

Siee, — Since the Deputy of Calais was brought over pri- 
soner, two other men — men of some note — from the same 
town, have been sent for, and are in the Tower. The Bishop 
of Chichester and the Dean of the Chapel Eoyal, whom your 
Majesty may remember as ambassador at your Court, have 
been arrested on a charge of high treason ; and with them 



NOTE F. 143 

one of the King's chaplains, a man of reputation for learning. 
This last is said to have been in correspondence with Eome in 
the times of the late marquis. The rest of the bishops are in 
terror. They are afraid that they also may be made out guilty ; 
and their fate will be certain. The religious strife has become so 
bitter that each party will destroy their antagonists if they 
can. There will be prisoners enough between them by and 
by ; and when Parliament will now end, it is impossible to say. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
June i, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impdr. Paris.] 

My Loed, — A few days since the Dean of the Chapel 
Royal and the Bishop of Chichester were conducting the ser- 
vice in state at "Westminster Abbey, when they were arrested, 
and sent to the Tower for treason, and before night their goods 
were seized and confiscated. 

Lord Cromwell, I hear from a credible quarter, says that 
other bishops are about to follow. I did not learn their 
names, but we may presume them to be those who lately 
shook Cromwell 1 s credit, and brought him nearly to his ruin. 
However that be, things are now at a pass when either Crom- 
well's party or the Bishop of Winchester's party must fall ; and 
although they are both high in favour and authority with the 
King their master, fortune will most probably turn in favour 
of Cromwell. The Dean of the Chapel, the Bishop of Win- 
chester's best friend, is struck down ; the Archbishop of 
Canterbury, his greatest adversary, has been deputed to preach 
in the bishop's place at St. Paul's, and has begun to argue 
against his doctrines in the same pulpit where the bishop 
preached in Lent. Doctor Barnes, who was lately imprisoned, 
is likely to be soon released at the intercession of the Ger- 
mans ; and another doctor, named Latimer, who last year sur- 
rendered his see rather than subscribe to the Six Articles, is 
recalled, and will shortly be replaced upon the bench. 

So great is the inconstancy here, and so lightly opinion 
changes. 

The state of religion continues most unfortunate. The 
bishops are divided, and hate one another. The people know 
not what to believe ; for those who are inclined to the re- 
formed views are called heretics ; those who adhere to the old 
faith are charged with Papistry and treason. They ought to 
dissolve Parliament, and find some middle way for the country 



144 NOTE F. 

to follow. But as far as I can see, it will be as with the 
Diets in Germany, and the confusion, instead of being 
pacified, will grow worse and worse. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
June 10, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Tmpe'r. Paris.] 

Sire, — I am this moment informed that Mr. Thomas Crom- 
well,* Keeper of the Privy Seal, and the King's Vicar- 
G-eneral in matters spiritual, who since the death of the 
cardinal has had the chief conduct of the affairs of this realm, 
and was lately made Grand Chamberlain of England, has, 
within an hour, been sent prisoner to the Tower, and his goods 
are in the hands of justice. 

This news need not have been of especial consequence. Such 
persons are often reduced to the rank out of which they have 
been raised, and are treated as every one declares this man 
has deserved to be treated. Cromwell, however, has been the 
chief author of all the innovations in religion ; and in the 
present state of affairs, and from the probability that there 
will now be a change, his downfall is so important that it is 
my duty to inform you of it immediately. At this time I can 
say no more. The doctrinal questions are still unsettled, and 
the bishops as far from a conclusion as ever. 

Sire, as I was about to close my letter, there came a 
gentleman of the Court to me with a message from the King. 
His Highness desires me not to be alarmed by the arrest of 
Lord Cromwell ; and because the common people talk wildly 
and ignorantly, and that I may have something better than 
conjecture to send to your Majesty, he wishes me to learn the 
exact truth from himself. 

The substance of his explanation is this. The King has 
endeavoured, by all the means in his power, to compose the 
religious differences in this realm. Cromwell has lent him- 
self to the Lutherans, and has abused his authority to show 
favour to the teachers of false opinions, and to oppress and 
hinder their opponents. 

Being admonished of late by some of his servants that he 
was acting contrary to his master's wishes and to the statutes 
of the realm, he betrayed himself, and revealed his secret 
intentions. He said that he hoped to put down alto- 



* The reader will observe the change in Cromwell's designation. 



NOTE F. 145 

gether the old preachers, and leave none but the new ; that in 
brief time he would bring things to such a pass, that the King, 
with all his power, should not be able to hinder him; and that 
his party would be so strong, that whether the King would or 
no, the King should accept the new doctrines, if he had himself 
to take arms and fight for them. The victory in the struggle 
would be with him, and thus he would establish at last the views 
for which he had long contended. 

The persons to whom Cromwell said these words revealed 
them to the King, more regarding their duties than the 
favour of their own master. 

His Majesty says also that the first time he is in conversa- 
sion with me he will tell me other things which will prove 
how deep Lord Cromwell's fault has been. 



Marillac to the Constable.. 
June 10, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

My Lord, — I explained to you in my last letter the divi- 
sions of the Privy Council, how one part was trying to 
destroy the other. Lord Cromwell's party appeared the 
strongest ; a few days since he was able to arrest the Dean 
of the Chapel and the Bishop of Chichester. But the party 
have now fallen in the fall of Lord Cromwell himself ; there 
remain of them only the Archbishop of Canterbury, whose 
mouth for the future will be closed, and the lord admiral, 
who has long learnt to trim his sails to the wind. Against 
them are the Duke of Norfolk and all the rest. 

It is indeed a marvellous change, and passes expecta- 
tion. 



Francis the First to Marillac. 
June 15, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Irnper. Paris.] 

M. Marillac, — Sir John Wallop, the minister of my 
good brother the King of England, has this day informed me, 
on the part of my said brother, of the arrest of Mr. Crom- 
well. 

The news is more than grateful to me. It is such as I give 
most hearty thanks for to Almighty God, who has been my 
brother's perpetual friend and support. 

You will lay my letter to yourself before the King. I send 

L 



146 NOTE F. 

a duplicate for the purpose. You will tell him from me that 
he has occasion to show himself grateful to the Almighty, who 
has thus revealed to him the crimes and misdoings of this 
unhappy man. 

It was this Cromwell who was the cause of the suspicions 
which my good brother has entertained against his most faith- 
ful subjects. God has made the truth to be known, and now, 
when my good brother has removed the wicked wretch from 
his councils, he will perceive what God has done for the 
tranquillity of the realm, and the common welfare of nobles 
and people. 

For the regard I bear him, M. Marillac, I feel myself 
obliged to dwell on this thing. I entreat him to take my 
words in good part as proceeding from a sincere and honest 
good- will towards him. My cousin, the Duke of Norfolk, will 
remember my language when he was last at this Court. I would 
have you show him this letter before you communicate it to 
the King. 

M. Marillac, I pray God have you in his keeping. 
Written at Fontainebleau, June 15, 1540. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
June 23, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

My Lord, — There is nothing to tell you except what con- 
cerns Lord Cromwell ; all other business is cast aside that 
they may attend exclusively to him ; and they are so swift in 
their operations that it is thought in a week, at latest, he will 
die the traitor's death that he has deserved. 

The arrest took place in the council chamber at the Palace 
at Westminster. The Lieutenant of the Tower entered with 
the King's commands to take him prisoner. In a burst of 
passion he clutched his cap and flung it on the ground. ' This, 
then,' he said to the Duke of Norfork and the rest of the 
council assembled there, ' this, then, is my guerdon for the ser- 
vice that I have done. On your consciences, I ask you, am 
I a traitor ? I may have offended, but never with my will. 
Such faults as I have committed deserve grace and pardon ; 
but if the King my master believes so ill of me, let him make 
quick work and not leave me to languish in prison.' 

Part of the council exclaimed that he was a traitor ; part 
said he should be judged by the bloody laws which he had him- 
self made ; words idly spoken he had twisted into treason ; the 



NOTE F. 147 

measure which he had dealt to others should now be meted 
out to him. 

The Duke of Norfolk, after reproaching him with his many 
villanies, tore the St. George from his neck. The admiral,* 
to show that he was as much his enemy in adversity as in 
prosperity he had pretended to be his friend, stripped off the 
G-arter. He was then led down into a barge by a gate which 
opened on the river, and was conducted to the Tower. The 
people in the City knew nothing of his arrest until they saw 
Mr. Cheyne and two archers of the guards at his house door. 

His effects appear by the inventory to be of less value than 
was expected : though enough, and too much, for so base a 
fellow. He had £7,000 sterling in silver money. The silver 
vessels, crosses, chalices, mitres, goblets, and other spoils of the 
Church, might amount to rather more. The whole was carried 
in the night to the royal treasury, a sign that there was no 
intention of restoring it. 

The following morning many letters were found — letters 
which he had himself written to the Germans ; others which 
he had received from them. I do not know the contents ; 
but the King is so exasperated that he will not hear him 
speak, and is only anxious to put away the very memory 
of him as of the vilest wretch that ever was born in the 
realm. His offices will be bestowed as you will see below ; 
and the public criers have gone through the City, proclaiming 
that he is not to be called Lord Privy Seal or by any other 
title of honour, but solely Master Thomas Cromwell. His 
privileges and prerogatives of nobility are taken from him. 
The less valuable of his effects are distributed among his ser- 
vants, who are forbidden to wear their master's livery, and it 
is thought he will not be admitted to trial as a peer of the 
realm,t or be executed with a peer's privilege by the axe. 
He will be hanged like any common villain. 

The fate of the other prisoners in the Tower is uncertain. 
There are hopes for the Deputy of Calais. The King said 
a few days ago, he could not find that the deputy had erred 
through malice. His faults had arisen more from ignorance 
than any other cause. 

My lord, it remains to tell you who have succeeded to 
Cromwell's offices. The admiral becomes Privy Seal. Lord 
Russell goes to the Admiralty. The Bishop of Durham is 



* Fitzwilliam, Earl of Southampton. 
+ This is, perhaps, the explanation of the process against Cromwell being 
by attainder. The lords would not acknowledge him as their peer. 

l2 



148 NOTE F. 

Chief Secretary. About the Vicar-generalship of the spiri- 
tualty no resolution is yet taken. If they appoint any one, it 
will be the Bishop of Winchester, who since the fall of his 
great adversary has returned to the Privy Council. 

Judicial matters will be managed by the chancellor, who, 
in addition to his other merits, speaks neither French nor 
Latin, and is a most accomplished seller of justice whenever 
he can find a merchant to buy it. His colleague is the 
Chancellor of Augmentations,* the worst man in all England ; 
the first inventor of the dissolution of the abbeys, and of 
all subsequent changes. The Chancellor of Augmentations 
invented, Cromwell furnished the authority. He held his 
office for the increase of the revenue of the crown ; but 
for all that he might be more fitly called the ' Chancellor 
of Diminutions.' He is able and learned, but he uses his 
talents only for evil. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
July 6, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

Sire, — The Parliament will last till the end of this month ; 
when it is over we shall see how things will be. Eor the 
present I have nothing to write, unless it be that the King 
tells me he means to grant a general pardon of all crimes and 
offences committed by his subjects, those persons only being 
excepted from the benefit of it who are attainted by Act of 
Parliament for high treason. Among these last is Cromwell, 
who will be executed, the Duke of Norfolk desires me to tell 
you, as soon as ever Parliament rises. The mode of his death, 
the duke says, will be the most ignominious which is practised 
n this country. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
July 6, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

My Lord, — I have received the letters which his Majesty 
and your lordship were pleased to write to me, dated the 28th 
of last month, and have seen by the enclosure the account of the 
conversation which the Most Christian King held with the 
Pope's ambassador. I see nothing in this to cause surprise. 
This King has often used the same language to myself. As 
to the Pope and the Emperor, you know, my lord, he not 



* Sir B. Byche, afterwards Lord Byche. 



NOTE F. 149 

only calls his Holiness mere Bishop of Borne — which is the 
title by which his Holiness is now uniformly designated here 
— but he heaps upon him contumelious expressions, calling 
him abomination, child of perdition, an idol, and an Anti- 
christ ; and as to the Emperor, I never speak to his Majesty 
but what he uses much the same words of him also. On the 
other hand, when talking of France, he never once makes 
mention either of pension or tribute ; he never complains of 
the fortifications of Ardes, or of any other thing, unless it be 
that we are holding off from him, and preferring others to him, 
who will never be our sincere friends. 

As to other things ; you will have understood by my 
cyphered letter of the first of this month, that there was some 
diminution of regard towards the Queen on the King's part, 
and a disposition toward another woman. The Queen has 
been sent to Richmond. The King promised to follow her 
two days later ; but I know for certain that he has not been 
there, nor does he talk of going. The route which he has 
appointed for his progress does not approach that neighbour- 
hood. It is said in the Court that she has withdrawn to be 
out of danger of the plague, which they pretend has ap- 
peared in the City. But that is false. There are no signs of 
the plague. If there were, the King would not stay for the 
most important business in the world. I do not know a man 
so timid in such cases as he. 



Marillac to Franeis the First. 
July 8, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

Sire, — I had a message from the King yesterday morning, 
requiring my presence at the Court. The Emperor's ambas- 
sador had a similar invitation, and on our appearance we were 
conducted into the council chamber, neither of us knowing 
why we were sent for. 

The Privy Council were assembled, and the Bishop of Dur- 
ham then addressed us in Latin. He said that the clergy, and 
the lords and commons assembled in Parliament, had ascertained 
that there were certain hindrances to the marriage celebrated 
five months previously between his Majesty and the sister of 
the Duke of Cleves ; and that no disputes might hereafter arise 
touching the inheritance to the crown, they had entreated his 
Majesty, for his own welfare and for theirs, to allow the said 
hindrances to be examined by Parliament, in order that the 



150 NOTE F. 

question whether the marriage was or was not valid might 
receive a conclusive answer. 

To this request the King had been pleased to consent, and his 
Majesty had desired that we should be informed of what had 
taken place, that we might send a true account to our re- 
spective Courts, and not be at the mercy of rumour. 

To this harangue I replied, that for my part I never ven- 
tured to speak of Kings without due discretion, and in a 
matter of such importance I should not dream of writing 
without accurate knowledge ; the honour of Sovereigns re- 
quired to be treated with more reverence. Nevertheless, I said, 
I thanked the King much for having thus openly informed me 
of the truth, and I would transmit it faithfully, as my master's 
service required. I added, that if they desired I would fur- 
nish them with a copy of my letter ; but this they graciously 
refused. They were satisfied, they said, that I should write 
nothing but the truth ; and I then returned to my lodgings. 
The courier should have set out immediately, but the passages 
have remained for two days closed. They were afraid, I 
suppose, of the story transpiring through an unauthorized 
channel. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
July 21, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imp^r. Paris.] 

Sire, — The marriage between the King and the Lady Anne 
of Cleves is still under discussion, and things have gone so 
far that by the joint sentence of all the bishops in England, and 
with the sanction of Parliament, the said marriage is declared 
null and at an end. The King has sworn in the presence of 
the council, that the Lady Anne has never been more than 
formally his wife, that the marriage had not been consum- 
mated, and that the consent required to give it emcacy was 
wanting from the first. It is also declared that she was before 
engaged to the son of the Duke of Lorraine, and that the 
King, having entered into the contract in ignorance of those 
conditions, is not bound to it. 

The lady being asked if she would accept the bishops 
for her judges, assented willingly. The Duke her brother's 
ambassador urged her again and again, as he himself assured 
me, to consent to nothing ; but she declared that she would 
do only what would please the King her lord ; she had re- 
ceived nothing but kindness from him, and she would submit 



NOTE F. 151 

to anything that he thought proper. If he wished it, she 
would remain in the realm and not return to her own country. 

In return for the lady's readiness, the King has settled 
upon her an honourable maintenance. He has given her 
either Richmond Palace or Moor Park for her life. She may 
take which she will, with twelve thousand crowns a year. 

No one, however, is to call her Queen any more, but simply 
the Lady Anne of Cleves, to the great regret of the people, who 
esteemed and loved her as the most gentle and gracious 
princess that they had ever known. 

For the rest, Sire, it is said generally that the King is going 
to marry a lady of great beauty, daughter of a brother of the 
Duke of Norfolk. Indeed, if I were to report a scandal which 
I have heard from more quarters than one, the marriage has 
already taken place. I cannot certainly say, however, that 
this is so. I shall know more in a few days. 

Parliament concludes to-morrow. The Act on Religion will 
be in unison with the teaching of the Church; and the separation 
from Rome and the suppression of the monks will remain the 
sole points of discrepancy. Another thing, strange enough, has 
been resolved on. All foreigners residing in this realm are 
required to leave it before Michaelmas, excepting such as are 
engaged in trade ; and of those who are so engaged, none 
may be householders unless they are married, or unless they 
have letters granted them of nationality. 

A number of poor creatures are in consternation at this 
order, especially Flemings, who are here in large numbers. 



Marillac to ilie Constable. 
July 29, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

My Lobd, — Master Thomas Cromwell was beheaded this 
morning at the usual place. Grace was shown him in the 
fashion of his death, which was to have been more ignominious. 

With him suffered also the Lord Hungerford, a man about 
forty years old, who had committed sodomy, had violated his 
daughter, had practised magic, and dealt with the devil. 

There will be more executions this week. There are several 
persons condemned by Act of Parliament, and not compre- 
hended in the general pardon, who lie at the King's mercy, 
either to die or to remain in prison for their lives. 



152 NOTE F. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
August 6, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imp£r. Paris.] 

Siee, — You will have heard of the execution of Master 
Cromwell and Lord Hungerford. Two days after, six 
more were put to death ; three were hanged as traitors, 
Eetherstone, Abel, and Cook, late Prior of Doncaster, for 
having spoken in favour of the Pope ; three were burnt as 
heretics, Garret, Jerome, and Doctor Barnes. It was a strange 
spectacle to see the adherents of two opposite parties die 
thus on the same day and at the same hour, and it was equally 
disgraceful to the two divisions of the Government who 
pretended to have received offence. The scene was as pain- 
ful as it was monstrous. Both groups of sufferers were 
obstinate or constant : both alike complained of the mode of 
sentence under which they were condemned. They had never 
been called to answer for their supposed offences ; and Chris- 
tians under grace, they said, were now worse off than Jews 
under the law. The law would have no man die unless he were 
first heard in his defence, and Heathen and Christian, sage 
and emperor, the whole world, except England, observed the 
same rule. 

Here in England, if two witnesses will swear and affirm 
before the council that they have heard a man speak 
against his duty to his King, or contrary to the articles 
of religion, that man may be condemned to suffer death, with 
the pains appointed by the law, although he be absent or igno- 
rant of the charge, and without any other form of proof. 
Innocence is no safeguard when such an opening is offered to 
malice or revenge. Corruption or passion may breed false 
witness ; and the good may be sacrificed, and the wicked, who 
have sworn away their lives, may escape with impunity. There 
is no security for any man, unless the person accused is 
brought face to face with the witnesses who depose against 
him. 

Of the iniquity of the system no other evidence is needed 
than these executions just passed. One who suffered for 
treason declared that he had never spoken good or bad of the 
Pope's authority, nor could he tell how he had provoked the 
King's displeasure, unless it were, that ten years ago his 
opinion was required on the divorce of Queen Catherine, the 
Emperor's aunt, and he had said he considered her the King's 
lawful wife. The rest spoke equally firmly and equally simply, 
and such loud murmurs rose among the people, and their 



NOTE E. 153 

natural disposition to turbulence was so excited, that had 
there been any one to lead them, they would have broken out 
into dangerous sedition. Inquiries were made instantly into 
the origin of the riot. The names of those who have repeated 
the words of the suiferers have been demanded, and this, I 
suppose, will be made the occasion of a worse butchery. It 
is no easy thing to keep a people in revolt against the 
Holy See and the authority of the Church, and yet free from 
the infection of the new doctrines — or, on the other hand, if 
they remain orthodox, to prevent them from looking with 
attachment to the Papacy. But the council here will have 
neither the one nor the other. They will have their ordinances 
obeyed, however often they change them, and however little 
the people can comprehend what they are required to believe. 

The King is ten miles off at Hampton Court, thinly at- 
tended, and has been lately at Richmond to visit the Queen 
that was. He is on the best possible terms with her, and they 
supped so pleasantly together that some thought she was to 
be restored to her place. Others say, however, that the King 
merely wanted to tell her what had been done, and required 
her signature to the deed of separation ; and this is most likely 
the true account of the thing, for three of the Privy Council 
were brought in, who are not in general admitted to such terms 
of familiarity. It would argue too great inconstancy, it 
would reflect too much on the King's honour, to put her away 
on a plea of conscience and take her back so easily. If she 
might justly be his wife, why did he put her away so precipi- 
tately ? If there were lawful impediments to the marriage, 
by what right could he take her back ? Moreover, she was 
not treated with as much distinction as when Queen. She 
had then a seat at his side. On this occasion she sat at a 
little distance at a table joining the corner of the table where 
the King sat. 

However, I will write more fully when I can obtain certain 
intelligence. 



Marillac to tlie Constable. 

August 15, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imp^r. Paris.] 

My Loed, — The King, with a small retinue, is gone to the 
chase, and the nobility are scattered to their homes. Till now 
there has been some uncertainty about the new Queen who 
has succeeded the Duke of Cleves' sister ; but this morning 



154 



NOTE F. 



she was prayed for in the churches in the usual form, with the 
King and the Prince. 

The Lady of Cleves, so far from being troubled at what has 
befallen her, appears as happy as ever she was in her life. 
Every day she comes out in a new dress of some strange 
fashion or other, and either she is preternaturally prudent in 
concealing her feelings, or, considering how much her honour 
has been touched, she is utterly stupid and insensible. 

However that be, the ambassador of Cleves has fretted him- 
self into a fever. He begs me every day to let him know 
what I hear about his master, and what is said about the new 
marriage. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
September 3, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

Sire, — I have already informed your Majesty of the 
nuptials of the new Queen, the niece of the Duke of Norfolk, 
who has been substituted for the lady now called only my 
Lady of Cleves. » 

The latter, so far from being miserable at her treatment, 
betrays in her face no signs of dissatisfaction whatever, and 
amuses herself in all possible ways with dresses and enter- 
tainments. 

Out hunting the other day, the King talked to me with 
much graciousness, and spoke at length of his regard for your 
Majesty. Among other things, he bade me tell you that the 
time was approaching when you would find the truth of what 
he had always predicted — meaning, the reopening of the 
quarrel between your Majesty and the Emperor. 

The Emperor, he said, had for some days past been endea- 
vouring to draw him over to his side ; but experience of the 
past had made him wary ; he had received many fine words 
from the Emperor, but the words had flown away, and no 
effect had followed. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
September 3, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

My Loed, — I have nothing particular to write to you, 
except that during this progress I have seen the new Queen. 
Her beauty is nothing particular, and she is very small and slight; 
but she is remarkably graceful ; her countenance is modest, 



NOTE F. 155 

soft, and gentle ; and the King is so fond of her that he knows 
not how to express his affection. She dresses in French 
fashion like the other ladies of the Court, and she reigns su- 
preme. The Lady of Cleves, meanwhile, shows herself per- 
fectly happy. Her brother's ambassador tells me she is in 
the best spirits in the world. 



In November an embassy was sent to the Emperor, and 
Marillac was instructed to find out the object of it. 

Marillac to Francis the First. 
November 16. [MS. Bibliot. Imper. Paris.] 

Siee, — I have no certainty to tell you. Nevertheless, it 
may be to the purpose to give you generally the results of 
the many opinions expressed about this embassy. 

The first possibility is, that the King may desire to clear 
his conduct to the Emperor and the German princes in di- 
vorcing the Duke of Cleves' sister and in marrying his pre- 
sent Queen. 

Secondly, he may wish to explain the order which he has 
introduced in religion ; the council pretending that they have 
established nothing which is not in conformity with the apos- 
tolic constitutions and the doctrines of the primitive church. 

The King probably knows that on these two points the 
Germans are offended and scandalized. The majority have 
renounced the friendship which they had commenced with 
him, and when occasion serves, they will show their resent- 
ment to the extent of their power. It is probable, also, that 
in their Diets and assemblies they will give some marked proof 
of the indignation which they have conceived against the 
King. They will be able to allege that he has never observed 
the marriage law, except so far as has suited his inclination ; 
and that in religion the English have done nothing except to 
gratify their ambition and avarice. 

To reply to these and similar charges, it is thought that 
the King has despatched the Bishop of Winchester, who was 
the chief adviser of this last marriage, by which he worked the 
ruin of the late Lord Cromwell ; while the bishop also, being a 
man of some knowledge, may explain how, in religion, things 
are restored unto their original condition, and by the number 
of his retinue may show that the Church of England is neither 
so impoverished nor despoiled as the world has thought. 



156 NOTE E. 

These views, Sire, have appearance of reason in them, and 
have been suggested to me by persons who have means of 
knowing what they speak of. For myself, were I permitted 
to guess with the rest, I should think the King's chief motive 
was to practise with the Emperor through this embassy, as 
he practised with you, Sire, through the Duke of Norfolk. 
The Euglish know that they have offended all the world, and 
therefore they distrust all the world. They fear that the 
princes of Christendom may one day unite to punish them, 
and they can find no better security for themselves than in 
the differences which they can excite between the two chief 
States of Christendom. They suppose that when these two 
heads move, all the members must move with them, and that 
when you are in discord you will have no leisure to interfere 
with them. 

The fortifications are continued throughout the island 
wherever an enemy can land. A German engineer, who has 
designed the ramparts at Guisnes and Calais, has been brought 
over to plan some other works at home. 

The Duke of Suffolk, I am told, is going in three or four 
days to Calais to inspect. Some say he will go further; but 
it is unlikely. He is not of an age to undertake a long 
journey. 

The King, with a few servants only, has been for two days 
in London, as it were incognito. He wanted to see certain 
machines of war, and contrivances for throwing fire, invented 
by his German and Italian workmen. His Majesty has lately 
fitted out six light galleys, which he has armed and equipped 
like your Highness' s at Marseilles. They will go to sea be- 
fore next Easter, and they are to ply between Calais and this 
coast, where they will make the passage with more certainty 
than sailing vessels. 



Marillac to the Constable. 
November 16, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

My Lord, — I have written so fully to the King that I 
think I have nothing to add, unless it be touching the mission 
of the Bishop of Winchester, which some think is to arrange 
a marriage between the Lady Mary and the Emperor. I can- 
not but believe such a match to be out of the question. In the 
first place, by all Estates of the Realm she has been declared 
illegitimate. Eor this reason only the Duke of Cleves would 
not have her; and she was offered, with the insignificant 



NOTE F. 157 

dowry of thirty or forty thousand crowns, to Duke Philip of 
Bavaria. 

The King, I consider, has resolved that she shall not 
marry out of the realm, for fear a claim should be made in 
her name to the crown, she being the only child whose 
legitimacy is recognised by the Church, and the Prince having 
been born since the schism from the Apostolic See. 

Moreover, my lord, they cannot recall the Act of Parlia- 
ment by which she was illegitimatized, without acknowledging 
the Pope's authority ; and to this they will not condescend, if 
only because he would compel them to restore the property 
of the Church and the holy places which they have desecrated. 
Besides the danger of being called on for restitution, sub- 
mission to the Pope would also be an evidence of great in- 
constancy ; they have sent men of rank and note to the scaffold 
for maintaining the Pap^l authority ; and to restore that 
authority would cause scandal and mistrust, and, possibly, 
tumult and sedition. 



Marillac to Francis the First. 
December 4, 1540. [MS. Bibliot. Impe'r. Paris.] 

The embassy has departed to the Emperor. The Bishop 
of Winchester is waiting at Calais and G-uisnes, pretending 
that his boxes have not yet all crossed the water, and it is 
plain enough that he means to follow the Emperor into 
Germany. 

There is more talk of the Duke of Suffolk going to Calais, 
as at one time was confidently expected. The arrangement 
is somehow at an end. Things seem quieter and more 
tranquil here than they appeared when I last wrote, and 
nothing is talked of except rejoicings and amusements. I, for 
one, have never seen the King in such good spirits or in so 
good a humour as he is at present. He has adopted a new 
rule of life. He rises in the morning between five and six ; 
at seven he hears mass ; and afterwards he rides till dinner, 
which is at ten a.m. He tells me that being so much in the 
country, and changing his place so often, he finds himself 
much better in health than in the winter, when he was re- 
siding in London. 



158 NOTE G. 



Note G. 

Eustace Chappuys to Charles the Fifth. 
London, November 19, 1541. [Archives at Brussels.*] 

Sire, — The day before yesterday, the lord admiral sent, 
by one of my servants, to tell me that the Queen had con- 
fessed to an intrigue, before her marriage, with Master 
Derham who is in the Tower. The Privy Seal (Lord Russell) 
confirmed the account yesterday. In the three years that the 
affair lasted, they slept together more than eighty nights 
without word or talk of marriage between them. 

It has been discovered lately that Master Culpepper, 
gentleman of the bedchamber to the King, has received love 
presents from her, and, within these two months, has been with 
her twice in private five or six hours at a time. Lady Roch- 
fort acted as their go-between, and is also sent to the Tower. 

When I asked the Privy Seal (Lord Eussell) what the 
King meant to do in the matter, he told me that his Majesty 
would be more patient and merciful with her than people 
would suppose, and even than her own relations desired. He 
meant the Duke of Norfolk, who (God knows why) would 
have the Queen burnt. I do not know that as yet she has 
been sent to the Tower. There was a talk of putting her 
in a suppressed nunnery near Richmond, attended by four 
women and some men. 

The Lady of Cleves, I am told, is delighted, and she is to 
come to Richmond (if she be not already there) to be nearer 
the King. On all accounts I thought best to say nothing 
about her to the Privy Seal till I should have a better oppor- 
tunity when again at the Court. 

The Princess has been sent away with the Prince, and all 
the other ladies have gone to their homes. 



Eustace Chappuys to Charles the Fifth. 
London, December 3. 

Sihe, — The clerk of the council was sent to me on St. An- 
drew's day, with a message from the lords of the said council, 
that the next day Culpepper and Derham would be tried. 



* This and the four following letters have been printed by M. Gachard, 
Analectes Historiques, vol. i. p. 237. 



NOTE G. 159 

They begged that one of my people might be present, and the 
same desire was expressed to the ambassador of France, the 
Venetian secretary, and the minister of the Duke of Cleves, 
who is still here. 

I sent a man to the trial. The King's council were all 
present, and after a long examination, which lasted full six 
hours, the said two gentlemen were found guilty, and sentenced 
to be quartered as traitors. 

Derham confessed that he had been often with the Queen, 
before she was affianced or eDgaged to the King, and he said 
he did not know that he had done wrong, as there was a 
promise of marriage between them. 

Culpepper denied positively that he had ever had to do with 
her, or had ever solicited her. She had importuned him, 
through Lady Eochfort, to give her a secret meeting at Lin- 
coln, and she had told him then what she had before let him 
know through Lady Eochfort, that she was languishing and 
dying of love for him. 

It is thought that they will be executed to-day. 

Lady Eochfort would have been condemned at the same 
time were it not for a frenzy into which she fell three days 
after her arrest. She returns to herself at times, and the King 
sees that great pains are taken for her cure. The admiral's wife 
is with her, and she is attended by physicians ; her recovery 
being desired, that she may be the subject afterwards of 
exemplary punishment. 

The Queen remains at Sion, and it is thought that the 
King, to show his clemency, will take no further steps about 
her until the Estates of the Eealm, which have been summoned, 
decide how it shall be. 

The King has gone away somewhere in the neighbourhood 
to divert his thoughts ; and people fancied he would pay 
a visit to the Lady of Cleves ; but he has chosen another 
route, and, so far, I cannot perceive that he has any idea of 
taking her again. 

The clerk of the council (Paget) having been long a friend 
of mine, I could not help saying to him that, if the King 
separated from his present Queen on the ground of her 
previous conduct, according to the common report in the Low 
Countries, he had equally good reason to part with the Lady of 
Cleves. He did not deny this . . . and he told me he did not think 
that the King would ever return to her, or that he would 
marry again at all unless the Parliament constrained him. 



160 NOTE G. 



Eustace Chappuys to Charles the Fifth. 
London, Jan. 29, 1542. 

Sire, — The session of Parliament, or of the Estates of the 
Realm, has just commenced. The chief point on which the 
chancellor dwelt in his opening speech was the crime com- 
mitted by the Queen, of which he made the very worst 
possible. 

The lords spiritual and temporal went into the business 
four days ago. They declared the Queen and Lady Eochfort 
guilty of high treason. The old Duchess of Norfolk and her 
daughter are sentenced to be imprisoned for life ; and Lord 
William, his wife, and the other accomplices, also, for the 
same offence. 

The resolution of the peers will be laid before the repre- 
sentatives of the people in two days. 

At the very moment while I was writing the above, I 
was informed that the Commons House had this morning come 
to the same resolution about the Queen and the ladies, as the 
bishops and peers have done, and the Queen, it is to be feared, 
will be soon sent to the Tower. She is still at Syon, very cheer- 
ful and more plump and pretty than ever : she is as careful 
about her dress, she is as imperious and wilful, as at the time 
when she was with the King; notwithstanding that she expects 
to be put to death, that she confesses that she has well deserved 
it, and asks for no favour except that the execution shall be 
secret and not under the eyes of the world. Perhaps, if the King 
does not mean to marry again, he may show mercy to her ; 
or if he find that he can divorce her on the plea of adultery, 
he may take another thus. The question, I am told, has been 
already debated among the learned theologians, although, so 
far, there is no appearance that the King thinks of any further 
marriage or of any other woman. The Lady of Cleves, as I 
understand, has less hope of a reconciliation than ever. She 
has sent the King a new-year's gift of certain pieces of velvet, 
and the King has presented her with some goblets and 
flagons. 



Eustace Chappuys to Charles the Fifth. 
Feb. 19, 1542. 

Sire, — In my letter of the 29th of January I informed 
your Majesty of the resolution taken by Parliament in the 
matter of the Queen and the ladies. 



NOTE G. 161 

The King, from the time he had been informed of the said 
Queen's misconduct,had showed no signs of cheerfulness. Since 
the sentence he has recovered his spirits, and on the 29th he 
gave a supper and banquet to the ladies of the Court. There 
were twenty-six of them, with the lords, at his own table, and at a 
table adjoining there were thirty -five. The lady to whom fcr 
the time he was most attentive was the sister of Lord Cobham, 
and of the wife of Master Wyatt, lately divorced for adultery. 
She is a pretty young creature, with spirit enough, if she tries 
it, to play as bad a game as the others. He is said, also, to 
have a fancy for the daughter of Madame Albert, niece of the 
master of the horse, Sir Anthony Brown.* 



Eustace Chappuys to Charles the Fifth. 
Feb. 25, 1542. 

Siee, — In my letter of the 10th I informed your Majesty 
of all that had been done in the affair of the Queen ; only I 
forgot to tell you that the King, after the vote of Parliament 
in her condemnation, wishing to proceed more humanely and 
more according to forms of law, sent some of his council with 
a deputation from the Houses to propose to her to come to 
the Parliament chamber to defend herself. She refused, how- 
ever : she submitted herself to the King's mercy and good 
pleasure, and confessed that she had deserved to die. 

Since that time, on the afternoon of the loth, the Queen, 
after some resistance, and with some difficulty, was taken 
down the river to the Tower, preceded by a barge containing the 
Lord Privy Seal, several members of the council, and a number 
of servants. The Queen followed in a small close barge, with 
three or four men and as many women. The Duke of Suffolk 
came behind as a rear guard, in a large boat crowded with 
his retinue. 

When they reached the Tower stairs, the lords disem- 



* Henry, however, did not so easily forget Catherine Howard's conduct. 
On the 16th of April, Chappuys wrote : — 

' There is no sign or hint that the King thinks of marrying again, either 
with the Lady of Cleves or any one else. Ever since the misconduct of his 
last wife he has become so sad and melancholy that he is altogether unlike 
himself. In every interview I have had with him I have found him full of 
sorrow, heaviness, and sighs.' 

On the 15th of the following January Chappuys wrote again : — 

' The King, from the time when he was made first aware of his last wife's 
wickedness, has been never anything but sad and pensive. He has shown 
no inclination for giving entertainments to ladies, or seeking their society.' 

M 



162 NOTE H. 

barked first, and afterwards the Queen, in a dress of black 
velvet. The same forms of respect were shown to her as 
when she was on the throne. 

Two days after, being Sunday the t 2th, in the evening, she 
was instructed to disburden her conscience ; she was to die 
the following day. She desired that the block on which 
she was to be beheaded might be brought her, that she might 
learn how she was to place herself. This was done, and she 
made the experiment. 

At seven o'clock the next morning, all the King's council, 
except the Duke of Suffolk, who was indisposed, and the Duke 
of Norfolk, presented themselves at the Tower, with a num- 
ber of lords and gentlemen, amongst the rest being the Earl 
of Surrey, the Duke of Norfolk's son and the Queen's cousin. 
The Queen herself was shortly after beheaded, in the same 
place where Anne Boleyn suffered. A cloth was thrown over 
the body, which was taken away by some ladies, and Lady 
Eochfort was brought out, who seemed to be in a kind of 
frenzy till she died. Neither one nor the other said much, 
except to confess their misdeeds, and to pray for the King's 
welfare. 



Note H. 

Chappuys to the Emperor. 
Jan. 10, 1539. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

Sire, — The 30th December now past, Lord Cromwell 
sent for the French ambassador, and entreated him, as the 
ambassador tells me, earnestly and anxiously, to write to the 
King his master to put a stop to the slanderous charges of 
heresy with which the King was defamed in Prance. 

There was no cause or ground, Lord Cromwell said, for such 
accusations. The ambassador knew, and could himself see, 
that except in what concerned the Pope's authority, there was 
no innovation whatever. Religion and the Catholic faith re- 
mained inviolate. 

Further, the King heard that he was accused of tyranny 
and cruelty, and that these things were said of him, not only by 
the vulgar and ignorant, but by some of the principal persons 
in France. The Cardinal of Paris, in the Most Christian 
King's own council, had talked vehemently to that effect, and 
no one had contradicted him or shown signs of being dis- 
pleased. 



NOTE H. 163 

The King thought this marvellously strange, and very 
little consonant with the good turns which he had done to the 
Most Christian King. He thought he had deserved to be 
spoken better of. He had not expected that they would have 
allowed his honour to be tainted without cause. The Prince 
who punished traitors by law, and under the forms of justice, 
did not deserve to be called cruel or tyrannical ; and as to the 
execution of the Marquis of Exeter and his two accomplices, 
which seemed to have been the occasion of the report, the 
ambassador ought to know that their treason had been proved 
beyond all doubt since their death, by certain copies of letters 
to them from Cardinal Pole, as well as by other letters addressed 
by them to the cardinal. These copies, the originals of which 
had been burnt, were in the hands of the marchioness, and 
were found in a casket which, she kept at the house of a confi- 
dential friend. In the same casket there were letters found 
of the late good Queen and of the Princess ; and Lord Crom- 
well said it was quite certain that the marquis intended to 
usurp the crown at the King's death, to marry his son to the 
Princess, to despatch the Prince, and to destroy the family of 
the Seymours. 

The marquis and marchioness had in time past worked 
upon the Princess, putting fancies into her head, and advising 
her to stand out against her father and disobey the law. 

Lord Cromwell said too, that the marquis and his accom- 
plices, or some one among them, must have had intelligence 
with me, and betrayed secrets of State to me ; for they had many 
times found that your Majesty was informed of their most 
private intentions. The conspirators had been in communica- 
tion, therefore, with me, or with some ambassador or agent of 
your Majesty, and these persons had carried messages between 
them and Cardinal Pole. He therefore begged the ambassador to 
write to the Most Christian King, and request that the defama- 
tions against the King might cease. 

May it please your Majesty, the King himself, two days 
before, spoke to the Prench ambassador in the same language 
exactly, word for word, except only that he said nothing of 
the defamation of his character. Of the rest he omitted 
nothing, especially where it affected me. 

Further, Lord Cromwell informed the ambassador that he 
had had the Bibles in English printed at Paris, which had cost 
him two thousand crowns, and which, when finished and paid 
for, had been arrested and sequestered by the university. 
This he considered very strange, and he required the ambas- 

M 2 



164 NOTE H. 

sador to write for a release, and to assure the Most Christian 
King, on his behalf, that, if the release was granted at once, he 
would take it as a service which he would find means to re- 
compense. 

Thereupon, Sire, he went on to bid the ambassador tell him 
if there was a thing in the world which would increase and 
strengthen the alliance between their Majesties ; and he said 
he could not fail to bring the King his master to consent to it, 
as well as to remove all causes and occasions which might at 
any time engender differences. He pressed the ambassador 
extremely to say if he could think of anything, and the 
ambassador conceives that Lord Cromwell wanted him to 
answer that, for the removal of all scruples, it would be well to 
abolish the pension which the King claims from France. The 
ambassador might be surprised, Lord Cromwell continued, at 
hearing such language from him, when language so unlike it 
had been used in time past. The King's bad ministers had 
been to blame, the Bishop of Winchester, Sir Francis Brian, 
and Sir Anthony Brown ; and they were not rid of them yet. 
Before a year was over he hoped to speak in person with the 
Most Christian King, and to tell him things as much to his 
honour and profit as he had heard for a long time. 

Sire, being at court afterwards, as the King was leaving 
his room to go to mass, he addressed himself to me. I told 
him I was come to wish him a happy new year, and I asked 
if he had any commands for me. He thanked me, saying 
that whenever I liked to come to see him I should be wel- 
come ; and thereupon he began to express his surprise at the 
delays about his marriage.* 

Your Majesty had told his ambassador and Sir Philip Hoby, 
that the- Queen Kegent had full powers to settle everything. 
Tour Majesty had sent her instructions so ample that she 
could not pretend that she had to consult you further ; and 
he had not deserved, he said, to be trified with and dissembled 
with on all sides, alluding to France. Notwithstanding your 
Majesty's words, the Queen persisted that she had insufficient 
authority, and he was forced to doubt whether she had that 
real desire for the completion of the affair which she affected 
to the English ambassador. 

She was not to be excused, he said, for having neglected to 
communicate with the ambassador, after he had himself relin- 
quished his demand for Milan. In the marriage of the Prin- 



* With the Duchess of Milan. 



NOTE H. 165 

cess Mary with Don Louis there might, perhaps, be difficul- 
ties ; about his own there could be none. 

To this, Sire, I replied, that he ought not to take it ill if her 
Highness could not come to a final resolution till she had re- 
ceived your Majesty's directions on more points than one. 
There was the state of Milan ; there was the French pension ; 
there was the dispensation for the affinity between himself 
and the Duchess of Milan ; and at the date of your Majesty's 
last letter, her courier had not reached you. Though he had 
given up his pretensions to Milan, your Majesty's pleasure had 
still to be ascertained about it. The dispensation was an 
unconsidered subject. The recovery of the pension was a 
new one, and had no natural connexion with the marriage ; 
and if there had been no other reason for delay, it was enough 
that he no longer contemplated the marriage of the Princess. 
It might well be a question with your Majesty whether you 
would allow one marriage without the other. Moreover, 
it might be that the Queen had heard that Duke Frederick 
was going to your Majesty, and before giving her answer she 
might have wished to know if a resolution had been arrived at 
touching the Danish succession. True, he had himself said 
that he did not care for any large settlement with the Duchess ; 
but your Majesty and the Queen were bound in honour to 
consider the children who might be born of the marriage. 
There was already a Prince who would succeed to the crown 
of England, and the Danish title might be of great importance 
to them. 

He made me no answer, but left me, and I went to mass ; 
Lord Cromwell then joined me, and said he had news from 
Germany. The Estates, or at least part of them, he told me, 
were about to assemble at Cologne. By degrees he changed 
the subject, and said he marvelled at your Majesty's coldness 
about the marriage of his master with the Duchess of Milan. 
Your Majesty, he concluded, meant to give her to the Princes 
of Cleves and Lorraine. 

That would be a pretty business, I replied, to give her to 
both, to gain two sons-in-law with one daughter. I told him 
your Majesty understood well enough the difference between 
his master and such connexions as those — only the condi- 
tions had to be looked to. He said nothing to that, but 
pretended he had some business to despatch, and left me for the 
usual reason, that he wished to avoid suspicion. 

After dinner, Sire, the King began to talk to me of the 
wars which his Holiness was commencing. He said your 



166 NOTE H. 

Majesty would not be pleased for a great many reasons .... 
Afterwards tie returned to the marriage, and repeated part of 
what he had said in the morning. He said that his subjects 
were extremely importunate with him about taking a wife, 
and his age did not allow him to delay too long. The French 
boasted that your Majesty would not venture to conclude the 
treaty without their consent, and this he supposed was the 
real cause of the hesitation. A few days would show what 
was to be looked for. Sire, I am unable to say how he will 
act ; but he seemed to me perplexed and thoughtful. He is 
none the less vexed because it suits him to talk largely and 
haughtily, and to treat the world as if they were sheep. 

Everyone tells me (and I am myself of the same opinion), 
that he has a strong regard for the Duchess of Milan ; and 
three days ago, a gentleman who knows all his secrets told 
me he would take her, if she came to him without a farthing. 

As to the Princess's marriage, the French ambassador says 
he has heard from good authority (though he may not 
reveal his informant's name) that the King intends to give 
her to the young Duke of Cleves, and to connect himself with 
the King of Denmark, the Duke of Saxony and Prussia, and 
the Landgrave of Hesse. He undertakes to find money for 

them if they go to war with your Majesty For myself, 

I can believe that the King will be glad to make alliances 
there and wherever he can, to defend himself against your 
Majesty. He is not a man to go to sleep, and he will do his 
best to find your Majesty in work elsewhere, that you may 
have no leisure to meddle with him here. But I cannot 
think that he will marry the Princess out of the realm. If it be 
so, we shall soon know it, for the King is going in a few days 
to see his son ; and if he has any thought of the kind he will 
not fail to speak to her on the subject. Suspecting or be- 
lieving that the Dukes of Cleves and Lorraine are in commu- 
nication with your Majesty about the Duchess of Milan, he 
will endeavour to cross them by an offer of the Princess with 
all the conditions which they can desire ; and he knows well 
that if he misses this chance with the Duchess, he will have 
lost his last hope of returning to good terms with your Ma- 
jesty. He is prepared for all contingencies, however. He is 
collecting ammunition and materials for war, and within these 
five days the master of the ordnance has been with me to take 
leave, being sent down to the Scottish Borders to examine 
the fortifications in the northern counties. Trusty persons 
are on their way to Guisnes and Calais also, and to all parts 



NOTE H. 167 

of the realm. The King has taken alarm at the transports 
which are collected in Handera. Two or three times lately 
he has said to me that he conld not conceive why those 
vessels should be taking on board ammunition and ordnance 
in Flanders, if they were meant for use in the Mediterranean. 
There must be enough of such things in Spain. 

For general news here, Sire, on the last of December the 
master of the horse, Carew, was arrested and carried a prisoner 
to the Tower. Instantly that the order was issued for his 
arrest, officers were sent to take possession of his property : 
and people think the King will not forget to give directions 
to secure the beautiful diamonds, pearls, and numberless jewels 
he gave to the grand master's wife, the greater part of which 
were taken from the late good Queen. 

As to the offices held by the said Carew, it seems that it 
was settled before his arrest how they should be distributed ; 
for the order came out the following morning. Sir Anthony 
Brown is master of the horse, although it is not more than 
two days since Lord Cromwell spoke to the French ambas- 
sador of the ill offices which he had lately done in France, 
complaining that, like an arrogant blockhead, he had mixed 
his private quarrels and complaints with the affairs of his 
commission ; the King had given him an honourable situ- 
ation, but he should content himself with what he had got, 
without looking for more. 

The evidence against Carew, people tell me, is a letter 
found in the marchioness's casket, giving her information of 
things which had been discussed in the King's private room. 
Since his imprisonment, he has been pressed to confess some- 
thing against the marquis. It seems the evidence of young 
Pole was not enough ; and these people will follow the Carin- 
thian practice — execution first, and process after. As to 
the copies of letters which the King and Cromwell pretended 
to have found in a casket, among them being letters of mine, 
I cannot tell what these letters could be. I never wrote 
a letter to any person in the realm that I should care to 
see published, unless it were to the late good Queen and the 
Princess ; and anything written to them must have been 
burned immediately. 

The marquis and the others who were executed, were 
charged, and heavily charged, because no letters were found. 
They had received letters, and it was pretended that they 
were burned, because they would have compromised them. 
For myself, I have many times written to the Princess, to 



168 NOTE H. 

advise her not to expose herself to suspicion. I have sent 
her a dozen letters, which she has to show if necessary, and I 
should be glad if anything was to make the King ask for 
th'em and read them. 

To return to the master of the horse. I have been given 
to understand that, in hopes of pardon, he has discovered 
various things affecting both himself and the marquis. No- 
thing, however, has been specified, except that when the 
master of the horse brought news to the marquis that the late 
Queen Jane was delivered of a male child, the marquis was 
much vexed. If this was true, it could only be from the love 
and affection which he bore towards the Princess, in whose 
service he would gladly have shed his blood, as he often sent 
to me to say. 

If any letter of the master of the horse was found among 
the marchioness's papers, it must have been about something 
that concerned the Princess, to whom he was always him- 
self most devoted. It seems they wish to leave her as few such 
friends as possible. However, notwithstanding the fine pre- 
sents your Majesty made the said master of the horse when 
he came to swrar to the peace, he has always inclined towards 
Prance. The good Edward Neville many times reproached 
him for it. 

As to interceding with the King in behalf of young Pole, 
I think, for the considerations mentioned in my other letters, 
your Majesty has acted with your accustomed prudence in 
abstaining from interference. There was good reason for re- 
maining passive, and the execution since that time of his eldest 
brother, makes one inclined to desist from saying anything. 
People tell me that his life will be spared, but that he will 
remain in perpetual prison. I was informed that in Christmas 
week he tried to smother himself with a cushion. 

Sire, this morning, as I was melting the wax to seal this letter, 
the Prench ambassador's secretary came to me with a message 
from his master. Lord Cromwell, returning late yesterday 
from the Court, passed the ambassador's house, and went in 
to tell him that two hours previously the King had received 
letters from the Court of Prance, informing him that the Most 
Christian King had imprisoned two Pranciscans for defaming 
the King of England in their sermons. The Pranciscans were to 
be severely punished ; and on the first day of the year the Most 
Christian King gave a grand entertainment to the English 
ambassador. 

Orders had been given also for the release of the printed 



NOTE I. 169 

sheets of the Bible ; and this news had marvellously delighted 
the King. He declared himself under great obligations to the 
Most Christian King, and to the French ambassador as well, for 
his many good offices in perpetuating the alliance between 
the Most Christian King and himself. 

The said ambassador, however, desired that I should be told 
that all that had been done in France was an artifice only to de- 
ceive the English into confidence ; and that he had himself in 
his own letters directed the measures which had been taken, 
or, at all events, those which affected the defamation and the 
sequestration of the Bibles. 

The said ambassador desired also to know if it was true 
that the King of England had presented the Duchess of 
Milan with a diamond worth 60,000 ducats, as the world said. 
I told him it was the first that I had heard of it, as indeed 
it was. 

London, Jan. 9, 1539. 



Note I. 

The Irish chiefs, who, as long as Erance was at enmity with 
England, had sought the support of the Court of Paris, trans- 
ferred their allegiance to the Empire on the agitation of the 
divorce of Queen Catherine. Charles the Fifth endeavoured 
to frighten Henry into giving way, by fomenting sedition 
among his subjects. The Irish did not wait to be sought, but 
placed themselves and their swords, of their own accord, at 
the Emperor's feet. In the winter of 1528-9, the Earl of 
Desmond wrote, with offers of service, to Charles the Fifth, 
who was then at Toledo. Charles replied by sending his 
chaplain Gonzalo Fernandez, to see whether Desmond's 
powers were equal to his promises. 

Instructions for Gonzalo Fernandez sent by us to Ireland 
to the Earl of Desmond. 
Feb. 24, 1529. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

Seeing that you, Gronzalo Fernandez, Chaplain of my Court, 
are going to Ireland to the Earl of Desmond, to open negotia- 
tions with the said earl in our behalf, your instructions are 
as follows : — 

First, you will use all diligence to arrive at the place where 
the earl resides ; and after presenting your credentials, you 
shall say to him that, inasmuch as one of his followers, named 



170 



NOTE I. 



Godfrey, has within these few days brought a letter to us, 
signifying a desire ou the part of the said earl to be our ally 
and confederate, and with all his vassals and subjects to be 
friend of our friends and enemy of our enemies ; and inas- 
much as the said earl desires that we would send some con- 
fidential person who might learn his intentions, and see and 
report upon his resources ; conformably with his request, we 
have sent you to speak with him ; and in accepting his offer 
of goodwill, you shall tell him that he shall ever find in us a 
like disposition, and that he may hold himself assured of all 
the support which it may be in our power to give him. 

Tou shall inform yourself of the force which the earl, with 
his friends, can command ; and you shall desire him to explain 
in writing his expectations and plans, and to let us know what 
he will be able to effect against our common enemy. 

The earl requests, further, that in case he declare openly 
for us, and we come hereafter to make peace w r ith the King of 
England, we will not leave him uncomprehended in our treaty. 
You shall say that we have ever desired to be on good terms 
with the King of England. Our predecessors and his prede- 
cessors, our subjects and his subjects, have hitherto been 
friends and allies. We have ourselves borne an especial 
affection towards the English nation, and, for our own part, we 
have done all that lay in our power to remain at peace with 
the King. Notwithstanding, as is notorious to all the world, he 
has declared against us in favour of our enemy the King of 
Erance. He has given ear to evil and accursed advisers, who have 
persuaded him to separate from the Queen, our aunt, his lawful 
wife, and he has given the vice-royalty of Ireland to his 
bastard son. 

This his conductwe have been unable to endure with patience. 
He has placed himself at enmity with God and the constitu- 
tion of our Holy Mother Church. He has caused a scandal 
among all good princes and faithful Christians. He has in- 
jured the Queen, our aunt, and prejudiced the rights of the 
Princess, his only daughter and heiress of the realm ; and 
things are now at such a point, that we are resolved to oppose 
him by all means in our power. We are assured that the 
said earl will join us, as he has proposed, with all the force 
which he can raise, and will assist us now and ever against 
our enemies. 

You may assure him, further, that we will make no treaty 
with the King of England, in which he shall not be compre- 
hended ; and he, his friends, and subjects, shall ever find us 



NOTE I. 171 

fulfilling towards them the part of a faithful ally and con- 
federate. 

Done at Toledo, Feb. 24, 1529. 



Report of Gonzalo Fernandez. 
April 28, 1529. 

On arriving at the coast of Ireland we touched at a port 
belonging to the King of England named Cork. Many of 
the Irish people came on board the ship, and told me that the 
gentleman of the Earl of Desmond had just returned from 
Spain with presents from the Emperor to the earl. 

Leaving Cork, we were driven by bad weather into another 
harbour called Beran,* from whence I sent one of my servants 
to inform the earl of my arrival. In four days the earl's 
answer came, telling me that I was welcome, and that he was 
at a place called Dingle, where he hoped to see me. He 
addressed his letter to me as ' Chaplain of our Sovereign Lord 
the Emperor ;' and this, I understand, is his usual mode of 
expression when speaking of his Majesty. He had also sent 
to some of the other noblemen of the country, with whom he 
proposed to form a league, to tell them of my arrival. 

I set out again, and on the way five of the earl's people 
came to me to say that their master had gone to a harbour a 
few miles off to capture some French and English vessels 
there, and would be glad of my assistance. This I declined, 
and the earl, I understand, was satisfied with my excuses. 

The day after, the 2 1 st of April, we reached the said har- 
bour of Dingle, and were honourably received by the towns- 
people, and by a party of the earl's attendants. About four 
o'clock the earl returned himself, attended by fifty horse and 
as many halberdiers. He came at once to my quarters, and 
asked after the welfare of ' our Lord the Emperor.' I replied 
that, by the grace of God, his Majesty was well, and I had sent 
his commendations to his lordship. 

We then dined ; and afterwards the earl and his council 
repaired to my chamber, where we presented him with his 
Majesty's letter. He read it and his council read it. His 
Majesty, he said, referred him to me. I was commissioned to 
make known his Majesty's pleasure to him. I at once de- 
clared my instructions, first in English to the earl, and after- 
ward in Latin to his council; which I said were to this effect. 



* Beerhaven, perhaps. 



172 NOTE I. 

' One Godfrey, a friend of their lord, bad lately presented 
' himself to the Emperor with their lord's letter, in which their 
' lord, after speaking of the goodwill and affection which he 
' entertained towards the Emperor's Majesty, had expressed a 
4 desire to enter into close alliance with his Majesty, as friend ■ 
' to friend and enemy to enemy, declaring himself ready, in all 
' things and at all times, to obey his Majesty's commands. 

' Eurther, the said Godfrey had requested the Emperor to 
' send a confidential person to Ireland, to learn more particu- 
' lariy their lord's intentions, and his resources and power ; and 
' further, to negotiate a treaty and establish a firm and complete 
' alliance. Eor these purposes the Emperor commissioned my- 
1 self. I was the bearer to them of his Majesty's thanks for 
' their proposals, and I said I was so far in my master's confi- 
' dence that I was assured their lord might expect all possible 
'assistance at the Emperor's hands.' 

When I had done, the earl spoke a few words to his council. 
He then took off his cap, and said he thanked his Majesty for 
his gracious condescension. He had addressed himself to his 
Majesty as to his sovereign lord, to entreat his protection. 
His Majesty was placed in this world in his high position, in 
order that no one prince might oppress or injure another. He 
related his descent to me. He said that, between his family 
and the English, there had ever existed a mortal enmity, and 
he explained the cause to me. 

I replied that his Majesty never failed to support his allies 
and his subjects, and should he claim assistance in that capa- 
city, his Majesty would help him as he helped all his other 
good friends. I advised the earl to put in writing the words 
which he had used to me. He thought it would be enough if 
I repeated them ; but when I said the story was too long, and 
my memory might not retain it with accuracy, he said he 
would do as I desired. 

We then spoke of the support for which he was looking, of 
his projects and resources, and of the places in which he pro- 
posed to serve. He said he wanted from his Majesty four 
large vessels, two hundred tons each, six pinnaces well pro- 
vided with artillery, and five hundred Flemings to work them. 
I said at once and earnestly, that such a demand was out of all 
reason, before he, on his part, had achieved something in his 
Majesty's service. I remonstrated fully and largely, although, 
to avoid being tedious, I omit the details. In the end his 
council were satisfied that he must reduce his demands till his 
Majesty had more reason to know what was to be expected 
from him, and he consented, as will be seen by his own memoir. 



NOTE I. 173 

Of all men in the world the earl hates most deeply the 
Cardinal of York. Hd told me he had been in alliance with 
Prance, and had a relation called De Quindel, now with the 
French army in Italy. In future, he said he would have no 
dealings with the French. As your Majesty's enemies, they 
were his enemies. 

Tour Majesty will be pleased to understand that there are 
in Ireland four principal cities. The city of Dublin is the 
largest and richest in the island, and neither in the town nor 
in the neighbourhood has the Earl of Desmond land or subjects. 
The Earl of Kildare is sovereign in that district, but that earl is 
a kinsman of the Earl of Desmond, and has married his cousin. 
The Earl of Kildare, however, is at present a prisoner in 
the Tower of London. 

Of the other three cities, one is called Waterford, the second 
Cork, the third Limerick ; and in all of these the Earl of 
Desmond has lordships and vassals. He has dominions, also, 
among the wild tribes ; he has lords and knights on his estates 
who pay him tribute. He has some allies, but not so many, 
by a great deal, as he has enemies. 

He has ten castles of his own, some of which are strong 
and well built, especially one named Dungarvan, which the 
King has often attempted to take without success. 

The earl himself is from thirty to forty years old, and is 
rather above the middle height. He keeps better justice 
throughout his dominions than any other chief in Ireland. 
Robbers and homicides find no mercy, and are executed out 
of hand. His people are in high order and discipline. They 
are armed with short bows and swords. The earl's guard are 
in mail from neck to heel, and carry halberds. He has also 
a number of horse, some of whom know how to break a lance, 
They all ride admirably without saddle or stirrup. 



After the report of Gonzalvo Eernandez, Desmond himself 
continues in Latin. 

Hereunto be added informations addressed to the invincible 
and most sacred Caesar, ever august, by the Earl of Desmond, 
Lord of Ogonyll and the liberties of Kilcrygge. 

I, James Earl of Desmond, am of royal blood, and of the 
race of the Conqueror who did lawfully subdue Britain, great 
and small, and did reduce Scotland and Ireland under his yoke. 

The first cause of the enmity between myself and the King 
of England is an ancient prophecy or prediction, believed by 
the English nation, and written in their books and chronicles, 



174 NOTE I. 

that all England will be conquered by an Earl of Desmond, 
which enterprise I have not yet undertaken. 

The second cause is that, through fear of this prophecy, the 
King of England has committed his powers to my predecessors 
who have borne rule in Ireland ; and when Thomas Earl of 
Desmond, my grandfather, in peaceable manner attended 
Parliament in Ireland, no cause being alleged against him, 
but merely in dread of the prophecy, they struck off his head. 

The third cause is that, when Eichard, son of the King of 
England [sic'], heard that there were ancient feuds between 
the English and my predecessors, he came to Ireland with an 
army and a great fleet in the time of my father ; and then did 
my father make all Ireland to be subdued unto himself, some 
few towns only excepted. 

The fourth cause is that, by reason of the aforesaid feuds, 
the King of England did cause Gerald Earl of Kildare, my 
father's kinsman, to be destroyed in prison [destrui hi car- 
ceribus] until that my father, by might and power, did liberate 
the said Earl of Kildare, and did obtain his own purposes, and 
did make his kinsman viceroy of Ireland. 

The fifth cause is that, when peace was hardly begun be- 
tween my aforesaid father and the King of England, a certain 
sickness fell upon my father, I myself being then eight years old. 

The King, when he heard this, made a league of Irish and 
English to kill my father ; he being then, as they thought, 
unable to take the field. They, being banded together, made 
war against my father for twenty-four years, wherein, by God's 
grace, they had small success. 

The sixth cause is that, when peace was made at last between 
the King that now is and myself, I, in faith of the said peace, 
sent certain of my servants to the parts beyond the seas to 
Flanders and Erance, and the attorneys of the King of Eng- 
land did despoil my servants of the sum of 9000Z., and threw 
them into prison, where they now remain. 

Hereon follows my supplication : — 

These things premised, I, the aforesaid earl, do implore and 
entreat the invincible and most sacred Majesty of Caesar 
Augustus that he will deign to provide me with remedy, and 
I, with all my horses and people, do devote myself to your 
Majesty's service, seeing that your Majesty is appointed for 
the welfare of the oppressed, and to be lord paramount of all 
the earth. 

To revenge the injuries done to myself and my family by 
the King of England, I have the following powers ; that is to 



NOTE I. 175 

say, 16,500 foot and 15 00 torse. Also I have friends, con- 
federate with me, whose names be these — 



I. 


The Prince Brien, who can ms 


tke 600 h< 


Drse ar 


id 1000 


2. 


Trobal de Burgh „ 


100 


f> 


600 


3- 


Sir Richard Poer „ 


40 


>> 


200 


4- 


Lord Thomas Butler „ 


60 


)t 


240 


5- 


Sir John Galty ,> 


80 


>> 


400 


6. 


Sir Gerald Fitzgerald „ 


40 


>> 


200 


7- 


The White Knight 


400 


)> 


800 


8. 


O'Donnell, Prince of Ulster „ 


800 


>> 


4000 


9- 


The Knight of the Valley „ 


40 


,, 


240 


10. 


Baron MacMys ,, 


40 


>> 


500 


11. 


Captain Macguire „ 


3o 


>> 


200 



With divers others whose names be here omitted. 

Moreover, I, the aforesaid James Earl of Desmond, do 
make known to the Majesty of Caesar angust, that there is an 
alliance between me and the King of Scotland, and, by frequent 
embassies, we understand each other's purposes and intentions. 

Finally, divine grace permitting, I intend to gather together 
my own and my friends' powers, and lead them in person 
against Piers Butler, deputy of the King of Eugland, and 
against Limerick, Wexford, and Dublin, the cities which the 
King holds in Ireland. 

For the aid for which I look from your Majesty, I desire 
especially cannon available for land service and lit for breach- 
ing castles. May it please your Majesty, therefore, to send me 
cannon, that I may be the better able to do your Majesty service. 

And for myself, I promise on my faith to obey your Majesty 
in all things. I will be friend of your friends ; enemy of your 
enemies ; and your Majesty's especial and particular subject. 
If ever I chance to displease you, I will submit myself to your 
correction and chastisement. 

Written in my town, this 28th day of April, 1529, in the 

presence of Gonzalvo Fernandez, Denys Mac D c Doctor 

of Arms and Medicine, Denys Tathe, Maurice Herly. 

James of Desmond. 



Five years later, at the outbreak of Lord Thomas Fitz- 
gerald's rebellion, another application was made to the Emperor 
for assistance. 

Corn O'Brien, Prince of Ireland, to the Emperor Charles V. 
July 21, 1534. [MS. Archives at Brussels.] 

To the most sacred and most invincible Caesar, Charles 
Emperor of the Romans, Most Catholic King of Spain, health 
with all submission. — Most sacred Csesar, lord most clement, 



176 



NOTE I. 



we give your Majesty to know that our predecessors for a long- 
time quietly and peacefully occupied Ireland, with con* 
stancy, force, and courage, and without rebellion. They pos- 
sessed and governed this country in manner royal, as by our 
ancient chronicles doth plainly appear. Our said predecessors 
and ancestry did come from your Majesty's realm of Spain 
where they were of the blood of a Spanish prince, and many' 
Kings of that lineage, in long succession, governed all Ireland 
happily, until it was conquered by the English. The last 
King of this land was of my blood and name ; and ever since 
that time our ancestors, and we ourselves, have ceased not to 
oppose the English intruders ; we have never been subject to 
English rule, or yielded up our ancient rights and liber- 
ties ; and there is at this present, and for ever will be, 
perpetual discord between us, and we will harass them with 
continual war. 

For this cause, we, who till this present, have sworn fealty to 
no man, submit ourselves, our lands, our families, our fol- 
lowers, to the protection and defence of your Majesty, and of 
free will and deliberate purpose we promise to obey your 
Majesty's orders and commands in all honest behests. *We 
will serve your Majesty with all our force ; that is to say, with 
1660 horse and 2440 foot, equipped and armed. Further, we 
will levy and direct for your Majesty's use 13,000 men, well 
armed with harquebuss, bows, arrows, and swords. We will 
submit to your Majesty's will and jurisdiction more than a hun- 
dred castles, and they and all else shall be at your Majesty's 
disposition to be employed as you shall direct. 

We can undertake also for the assistance and support of 
our good brother the Earl of Desmond, whose cousin, the 
daughter of the late Earl James, your Majesty's friend, is our 
wife. 

Our further pleasure will be declared to you by our ser- 
vants and friends, Eobert and Dominic de Paul, to whom 
your Majesty will deign to give credence. May your Majesty 
be ever prosperous. 

Written at our Castle at Clare, witness, our daughter, 
July 21, 1534, by your humble servant and unfailing friend, ' 
Corny O'Bbien, Prince of Ireland. 



THE END. 



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